If Only You Knew
by Solana13
Summary: Ch. 38!When a mishap in Knockturn Alley leaves Ginny in Draco's debt, things get a little confusing. Featuring lots of witty banter or at least my attempt at it romance, Deatheaters, an enchanted necklace, and Draco in a Weasley Christmas sweater!
1. Chapter One

**Three weeks before the beginning of term**

"Hey! We got our letters!" Ron Weasley exclaimed as he removed two thick envelopes from a panting owl's leg.

"Yes! We don't have potions with Slytherin this year. Gin, what'd you get?"

"That's none of your business Ronald Weasley." The redhead said trying to brush past him and out of the room.

"No way are you getting off that easily." He said, plucking the letter from his sister's grasp. Silently Ginny cursed genetics for giving her a six-foot-something brother while she barely reached 5'6". Her brother's eyes widened.

"Ginny, this isn't- this can't be- are you sure this is _your_ schedule?"

"It has my name on it doesn't it?" She snapped, grabbing the letter out of his hands, and trying once again to get away from him.

"But it's a- a _seventh's _year schedule. This say say's your in _Advanced Potions AND Magical Healing._"

"So," She sniffed.

"So you're only in sixth year."

"Show's what you know. Dumbledore has allowed me to skip a grade."

"But that never happens."

"Well it did okay, and please don't go mouthing off to-"

"MOOOOOOMMMMMM!!"

"-Mum." The redhead finished gloomily.

**After the Start-of-Term Feast in Dumbledore's office**

"Miss Weasley, I would like to start out by giving you my congratulations, very few students get the opportunity you've been given."

"Thank you, sir."

"I will warn you, however, you will be expected to do everything any other seventh year would be expected to do, there will be no free rides. And if for some reason your grades slip or you are unable to complete the work assigned you will go straight back to your proper year."

"Don't worry, sir, I can do this."

"I have no doubt that you can, Ginny. Now, down to business." He said handing her a long piece of parchment. Curious, she unrolled it.

_Standard Brass Cauldron Size Nine_

_Mugwart leaves_

_Essence of Narcisence_

_Dragon's Breath..._

"I don't understand. Are these...potions ingredients?"

"Quite right, my dear."

"But _why_?"

"You, if I am to understand correctly, are enrolled in Magical Healing. These are the necessary supplies and this," He paused handing her a small leather pouch, "Should cover the extra expense."

He eyes widened as the bag opened to reveal almost twenty galleons. "I can't- I can't accept this."

"Miss Weasley, it has always been the policy of this school to provide for those students in need. You have a gift, that much is obvious if you were talented enough to get into Magical Healing. Madame Pomfrey and Pro. Snape hand pick those students who get accepted based on their test scores and their healing aptitude. Only two students this year have been accepted. It would be a shame to waste such a gift over a few gold coins, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, thank you, Headmaster." Ginny said felling a rush of affection for the old man. He may have been a crazy, old nut, but at least he was a kind, crazy, old nut.

"Magical Healing, like all advanced courses doesn't start until next week, so you'll need to go to Hogsmeade before then. I'll arrange a trip with either the Head Boy or Girl. Is Wednesday evening a suitable time for you?"

"Yes, that's fine."

"You may go then. It's your first night back and I'm sure you'd rather be with your friends then here. Besides," He added with a wink, "I think I'll head down to the kitchens and see if they have any leftover pumpkin pie."

**Hogsmeade**

The horses trudged on carrying their wagon, unaware of the mayhem within.

"I'm going to need new books." A silent nod, "And new robes." Another nod. "And then I'm going to light my hair on fire and run around the pub like a lunatic." A third nod.

"Mmhh, sounds good."

"Are you even listening, Malfoy?"

"As a matter of fact no. I was _trying _to pretend that you didn't exist, but you make that hard, what with your blathering on."

"I hate having to do this as much as you do-"

"I doubt that."

"-but we're going to have to live with it. The quicker I get my stuff the quicker we can leave."

"Whatever, Weasley."

"Tell me why you were made Head Boy again?

"Because I'm the best one for the job."

"What a sad, scary thought."

"Remind me to strangle Granger when we get back to the castle."

"It's not her fault she had plans. Although somehow I doubt her SPEW meeting will get huge crowd."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

"SPEW is, well never mind. But it's really important to her."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

"Well, Malfoy, I know you wouldn't know much about it, but that's what friends do. Take interest in one another. Support them and their interests."

"Friends? Is that what you call them? They don't care about you; they never had and never will. You'll always just be Weasel's love sick, little sister."

"Is that really what you think? Then I feel sorry for you, Malfoy, I really do."

* * *

"Why didn't you get quills when you went shopping before?"

"I don't know, I guess I forgot."

"That's quills, parchment, and a new cauldron you forgotten so far. Quite the little absentminded little thing aren't we? When shopping with Potter, then, did you? Too distracted by his lovely visage to pay attention?"

"Actually no. I haven't seen Harry the whole summer, not that it's any of your business."

"Well you know what they say; absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"I'm starting to see the truth in that. I'd certainly like _you _a lot better if you weren't here."

"That hurt." He said placing a hand over his heart.

Ginny had to gather every shred of self control she had not to lose her temper. So far Malfoy had been mildly tolerable (for a Malfoy at least) and she didn't want to ruin that.

"Why don't we go someplace you want to go, Malfoy?"

The blond, for a moment looked slightly taken aback, "What?"

"Listen, I'm not us to be all buddy-buddy or whatever. I just want to get through the day so just take this as an offering of peace at least until we get back to the castle." He still looked slightly unsure. "Hey, I've drug you around the whole town, isn't it only fair for you to do the same?"

"Fine." He smirked (she hated it when he did that) and grabbed her sleeve and towed her along through the crowd.

"Malfoy, when I said 'dragged' I didn't mean it literally. Malfoy! Slow down!"

Instead of heading her request he moved faster until they were nearly running down the street.

"Where are we going?"

"Where ever I like." He took a sharp turn down a dimly lit alley, causing Ginny to almost stumble. Hanging from one of the walls was an old sign hanging crookedly from one chain. Red ink reflected the light, making Ginny think of blood. It read simply "Knockturn Alley", but those words alone were enough to make Ginny wince.

Hesitant to step further into the alley way she asked, "What are we doing here?" Unfortunately he still had hold of her robes and was considerably stronger then she was.

The smell of stale water and rot wafted in the air. Ginny wrinkled her nose, a wave of nausea coming over her. She had heard of this place from both Harry and her parents; she knew it was not the most savory place nor did it draw the most pleasant crowd.

"I have business to attend to."

They mounted a half flight of stairs, where the alley opened up, but only slightly.

"Are you coming or not?" No response. "What, are you scarred?"

"Let's go."

"And Weasley, you might want to change your robes."

She looked down at her dingy black robes. They were simple and unadorned except for her Gryffindor and Prefect patches. "Why?"

"Somehow I doubt that the people here will take kindly to a little Gryffindor kitten." He took a step towards her. Instinctively she tried to pull back but he still gripped her shoulders tightly. A warm feeling crept slowly over her body and when he stepped back she examined her new attire she found her robes were now a deep emerald green.

"I look like a Slytherin." She said sadly examining her badges that, too, had changed.

"Forget that, you know it's the best you've ever looked, and considering the rags you normally wear, the best you ever will."

"Whatever. Let's just get what you need and get out."

"I thought you wanted me to have fun." He said innocently.

"I don't think 'fun' means what you think it means."

"Come on, Kitten." He opened the door and entered the shop, apparently expecting her to follow. She considered staying outside and making him wait...but no. That would mean staying outside, by herself, in a dark alley. Although somehow she got the feeling she wouldn't be much safer with Malfoy. Darn the Weasley pride.

She trailed after him reluctantly. Ginny studied each oddity she saw with great interest but was careful not to touch anything. Not that she thought her prudence was undeserved; Harry had told her of the ghastly things he had seen here.

"Stay here and don't touch any- on second thought, Weasley, touch whatever you like." She rolled her eyes at his retreating back.

Draco was feeling especially good about himself as he watched the startled girl. She had been purposefully annoying him all day. _'Malfoy I need quills. Which will do you like better the blue or the black? Malfoy, which parchment do you think will go better with those _lovely _black quills we got? White, off-white, or sandstorm?_" Not even a Weasley could be _that_ dumb.

It was obvious she had been doing it just to annoy him, so when she had offered him his chance at revenge he had taken it gladly. After all he was a Malfoy, and a Malfoy was never one to be made a fool of.

He was actually surprised she had actually entered the store; he had, after all, expected her to refuse after she realized where he was going. He supposed in some weird way she was trying to uphold the family honor, not that there was any.

The shopkeeper was still in the back room looking for Draco's newest request, siren's talon. He knew, of course, that the old, balding man would never find any, which made the whole experience even more fun because now he had an excuse to throw a fit and make Weasley wait even longer.

His eyes fell back on the redhead. He smiled unconsciously at the item she was examining. He knew it well as it, along with many other things here, had come from Malfoy Manor. It was the Capsell-Amorea, a beautifully engraved locket that when given as a gift made the wearer fall instantly in love with the bearer. She wrinkled her nose in distaste, completely unaware of the slate grey eyes watching her from across the small store.

"Mr. Malfoy-" Draco turned suddenly at the sound of his name. The shopkeeper, a short, nervous man, had returned and was twitching slightly.

"Did you find it?" Draco inquired, knowing the answer before he asked.

"I'm sorry sir, but no."

"What do you mean no? I come with a simple request for siren's talon and you refuse me? You say you have none?" The man was twitching more then ever and looked pained. Draco was deeply disgusted at the man's lack of spine; he hadn't even touched the man yet. "I am most displeased. In fact, I think I shall have to have to tell my father that the quality of this shop has been slipping. Maybe he-" Draco was pouring his anger out in the rant. All his annoyance at having to spend a day with the Weasley, all the anger he'd harbored over the summer at his father, all his start of term stress. Sure, it was probably unfair to take his anger out on this man, but it was sure making him feel better. So in that case hello misplaced aggression. "He shall have to find another establishment to take his business to. And if he get's really perturbed he might have to tell his _friends_ to do the same."

"Oh, no Mr. Malfoy, I could-" The older man's whining was cut short by a loud shriek. He recognized the voice immediately as the Weaselette's. He scanned the store for her and instantly saw her red hair, a flaming beacon in the shadowy shop. She was flanked by two men-on each side- who appeared to be in their early twenties. One, a tall, thin man with pale skin and blond hair, stood behind her while a darkly colored one stood beside her, one arm placed tightly around her waist.

"I'll have my wand back now." She said, her chin raised defiantly.

"Oh don't worry. You're okay with me." The blond said.

"Yes, princess, your in safe," Here the second one paused and pulled Ginny closer to him, "Hands with us."

"Somehow I highly doubt that. Now hand over my wand before I'm forced to hurt you."

"I was hoping we could get to know you a bit better." The man's glaze, Draco noticed, was positioned in a rather improper location. The Weasley girl's face was flashed a deep red, whether out of anger, fear, or because she too had noticed the inappropriateness of his glaze he wasn't sure.

One thing he was sure of, however, was that it was time to intervene. He may not have been a nice person, but there were some things even _he_ didn't do and harming an unarmed woman was one of them. Though it would have been nice to see the Weaselette get hurt. After all emotional cuts hurt so much more then physical pain, and no one knew that better then he did.

But no. Even he wouldn't sink to that level of inhumanity. He might have hated the girl, but that didn't make him slim.

"Let go of me now or-"

"Let's just go for a little stroll then, shall we?" Said the man as he lead her towards the door, both arms now securely around her.

"I believe the lady said no, you low down disgusting, scum." Draco said a little more arrogant (if that was even possible) then normal.

"And what do you intend to do if-" The men turned to see that they were facing _the _Draco Malfoy. "Mister Malfoy, I'm sorry. I was just trying to teach this girl that it's dangerous to wander the Alley alone."

"She isn't alone. The girl is with me. Now let her go if you value your life." His steel gray eyes flashed treacherously causing Ginny shiver.

The blond, who had been mostly quiet throughout this exchange, pulled his wand with lightning fast speed.

"Petri-"

But Draco was too quick for him. Before he even finished the word he lied unconsciously on the ground. Ginny took this moment of uncertainty to her advantage and did the only thing she could think of; punched her captor, hard, in the jaw. Draco was rather shocked at the girl's courage. The second man now, too, lay still on the ground. He knelt down and checked the man's pulse. It was slow, but steady, he was obviously unconscious. Looking at the redhead, he could see she was shaking violently.

"Wait outside. I'll be right there." And to his surprise she didn't argue.

* * *

Draco found her several minutes later outside leaning against a grubby brick wall. She met his eyes for only a second before turning her head.

He couldn't help notice the redness of her eyes. And was that a _tear_ she was wiping away?

"Did they hurt you?"

"No." Her voice was muffled and distant. He grabbed her shoulder and forced her to look at him.

"Did they hurt you?" He repeated.

"No, I'm okay. Thank you, Malfoy."

She was still shaking, he realized suddenly. "It's getting cold. Take this," He said wrapping his cloak around her. She looked up at him in shock, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"Thank you, Draco."

The name sounded weird coming out of her mouth. She looked uncomfortable and squirmed under his skeptic look. The weird thing was, it sounded _right_.

"Come on, let's get some food, it will clam your nerves."

She nodded.

* * *

A good meal seemed to cheer the little Weasley up. A good thing too because Draco had no to how to deal with a crying girl, especially a crying girl who happened to be his sworn enemy. And that was the problem wasn't it? He'd shown his enemy his weakness, that he wasn't the stone faced Malfoy he'd work so hard to convince everyone he was. He couldn't have the girl go and blab to Saint Potter, now could he? He needed someway to insure her silence. What he needed was-

"Hey Malfoy, Knut for you thoughts." The object of his plotting said, flicking a small bronze coin in his direction. With his well toned seeker skills he caught it, then handed it back.

"Keep your money, goodness knows you Weasels need it." She, probably with thought of his recent chivalry in mind, took the jab in good humor. But still she stared at him expectantly. What? Was this little Gryff more mental then he thought? Was she actually trying to have a _conversation_ with him? Well that wasn't about to happen. Yet somehow against his will he felt his mouth open.

_Don't you dare, Draco Malfoy. You close your mouth right now._

"Quidditch." He heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like his own answer.

"Quidditch?"

"Come on, Weasley, even you can't be that slow. You know, Quidditch, that game where you with four balls and the bats and you fly around on brooms..."

"Don't be stupid Malfoy-"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"-I meant like, professional quidditch, school quidditch..."

"I was just thinking how Slytherin is going to crush Gryffindor this year."

"Don't be so sure. This year we have a secret weapon."

"Yeah? So what's this so called 'secret weapon'?"

Ginny smirked (a smirk even a Slytherin would be proud of), "Me." She said, her eyes sparkling mischievously.

Draco, much to his companion's annoyance, simply laughed. "You? You made the team? Know I _know_ we're going to win."

"You're just jealous. I could out fly you any day."

"You just keep telling yourself that, love."

"Malfoy, I used to dislike you. Now I _really_ dislike you."

He put is hand to his heart in mock offence, "That hurt, it really did."

"Shut up."

"There, there, Ducky. You really need to come up with better comebacks."

"Fine. Shut up you unbearable git."

"Twit."

"Ferret."

"Weasel."

"Greasy haired, egotistical, prat of a Slytherin. The only reason your big, fat, head doesn't float away is because it's so weighed down with gel. You are a pompous, overbearing-"

"Hey! No fair, you said more then one word!" He pouted, sounding very much like a five year-old.

"So?"

"So, had I known we were allowed to say more then one word I would have called you a redheaded little Weaselette who's so poor she can't even afford her own school supplies. You Mudblood loving freak that you are have probably contaminated me."

"Contaminated you? With what? Is wittle Malfoy afraid of cooties."

"Shut up."

"Oh, now who needs to come up with better come backs?"

"The only reason I didn't respond is because you were being so utterly stupid that I decided not to grace that with a response."

"Which is just a really pretty way to say I win."

"Think whatever you like, Weasel."

"Grrrr... do you realize how infuriating you are?"

"Careful Weasel, have you had all your shots?"

"And you would know all about being a rodent wouldn't you, Ferret Boy?"

"That was uncalled for. That whole ferret thing really hurt my fragile psyche."

"Yeah. Right."

He didn't reply and she seemed quite intent to just glare at him. He gave her his most endearing smile; she rolled her eyes and resumed eating. _She's pretty enough_, he thought studying her from across the table, _for a Weasley_. The most striking feature of her heart shape face were her slightly upturned green eyes which were accentuated by her emerald robes.

Wait- Emerald robes?

Draco smirked at the redhead; obviously she had forgotten she was still in Slytherin robes. He considered telling her but quickly discarded the idea. He wanted to see how long it would take her to notice. He stifled a laugh as he pictured Potter and Weasley's faces if they could see the little Weaselette all done up like a Slytherin princess. Unfortunately the chances of any member of the 'dream team' sneaking into Hogsmeade on a Wednesday night and risking the chances of a week's detention were, like, nil.

"What's so funny?" She asked eyeing the Slytherin with unveiled suspicion.

"Nothing, Weasley." This earned him another eye roll.

"Whatever. You ready to go?"

"Do I have a choice? Dumbledore made me your babysitter for the day, remember?"

"So. You don't have to stay with me. The only reason I insisted you did before was to hopefully save me the time of going to look for you, but now, there's not much of the day left anyway so I guess it doesn't matter. Meet me at the robes shop in exactly one hour."

"Fine."

"An hour, Malfoy. Don't be late."

"Would I ever do that to you?" He asked innocently.

"Yes. Don't be late."

* * *

He was late by about twenty minutes, he noticed, but made no move to slow up. In fact, he might have even slowed down. His trip to Honeydukes had taken less time then he'd expected so, to insure his tardiness he had walked all the way to Zonko's, on the other side of Hogsmeade, and then back. He had a smug sense of satisfaction as her opened the door to Henrietta's Robes for All Occasions. To his surprise he did not find the Weasley girl sitting grumpily in a waiting room chair as he'd expected. Instead, he found she was still standing on the small stool, apparently getting fitted.

"Oh, Malfoy, thank goodness you're here. Let's go before she gets back." She took a step forward and tripped on the measuring tape that hung haphazardly around her shoulders. She stood back up and continued towards him. Only she didn't sound mad; she sounded _relieved_. "For Merlin's sake, hurry!"

"Before who comes back? Weasley, you're acting more strangely then normal."

Just then a well dressed woman in her early thirties came in holding an armful of robes. On her own maroon outfit there was a gold name plate that read 'Daisy'. She smiled, revealing two rows of straight, white teeth.

"Hello there, sir, you must be the laddie-love she's been waiting so impatiently for. Have a seat." She summoned a chair from the front room for him. He sat down, unsure of what was going on.

"I _told _you he's not my boyfriend!" An exasperated Ginny, clad in violet robes, exclaimed.

"When way are you waiting for him?" But before the redhead could answer she retrieved her measuring tape from where Ginny had thrown it to the ground. "Oh, dear that does look lovely, doesn't it? What do you think, love? What, you don't like it? I fancy blue myself." Then Daisy pointed her wand at Ginny and instantly the robes she wore turned blue.

Ginny rolled her eyes. She complained, "She's been at this for the last hour!"

The saleswoman ignored the comment. She was searching a nearby rack for yet another robe. On the seat near where Ginny was standing he saw a mountain of discarded robes. Daisy extracted a set of pale yellow robes from the rack.

Daisy cried, "Reponere!" and squealed delightedly as the blue robes were replaced by the yellow ones.

"No more. Please, I'm begging you!" But once again the woman ignored her. She seemed to think she had found her very own life sized manikin, a role which Ginny had obviously been playing for the past hour. Draco felt slightly sick as he watched her robes change from yellow, to blue, to red, then back to blue. Twice the Gryffindor tried to step away but Daisy would firmly chastise her and put her back on the stool. She simply wasn't about to lose her favorite model.

"Do you like them?" She asked Draco again. This time he replied, a diabolical plan forming in his twisted little head.

"Oh, yes, _lovely_ indeed! But wouldn't she look even prettier in these?" He said pointing to a set of silver robes.

"Owwwwww, you right!" Within a second the girl stood draped in the shimmering material of the robes.

"Malfoy..." Weasley said in a warning tone. But he wasn't about to stop, it was merely too much fun to see her annoyance.

"Oh, you look so cute, hon."

"Oh yes," He said, "Sooooooo cute. What do you think of this Daisy Darling?"

"Oh indeed!" She was now in a fury. He watched in unveiled amusement as she made Weasley's robes change first in color, then style. Her latest ensemble was of a pale lavender material. It's sleeves and hem were lined with lace. He laughed as he watched the redhead's face grow a deeper shade of red with each change of her robes. He heard Daisy gasp.

The Gryffindor stood draped in robes of flowing velvet, which appeared black, but at each crease where the light shone on the fabric he could see it was truly green. The dark color contrasted well with her pale, cream colored skin. He noticed for the first time that day she was more then pretty, she was beautiful. Not a classical beauty, not even a stunning beauty. No it was more subtle; it was in the soft curve of her chin and the high, dignified arch of her neck. Her hair tumbled down her back in a disarray of vermillion tendrils, the color of leaves in the autumn. Her green eyes, were enthralling, enchanting, and seemed to pull you deeper within and at the same time appeared to be so fully and completely her own that they seemed forbidden. He could see there was something there in those eyes...

"Enough!" The girl's voice shrieked, drawing him back from his thoughts. "Accio wand!"

"I'm flattered, really I am. But we must be going and I really only need work robes."

"Nonsense. You must stay for a few more minutes and-"

"_NO_! I, er, have to get back to the castle."

"No we don't." Draco interjected, bemused at his scheme.

"_Yes we do._ Unless, Drakie, _darling, you _would liketo try on some new robes." She said mischievously.

"You know, now that I look at the time I realized we probably should be going. Get the girl whatever she needs."

Daisy pouted.

"And be quick about it!"

Sullenly, the woman changed the redhead back into her original robes and scurried off to another room. She emerged carrying a package which she handed promptly to Ginny. The girl looked inside, her eyes falling on green velvet.

"But-I-I can't- I could never afford these."

"Sure you can, Hon. It's only a Knut." The woman said smiling. She knew Daisy was lying; she had seen the price tag herself and knew the price was well into the three digit range.

"But the price tag said-"

"They went on sale. Anyone who looks that good in them deserves to have them."

All at once Ginny felt her hatred for the crazy salesperson melt away. "Oh, thank you!" She cried and hugged Daisy. Quickly she paid for her other purchases (two black work robes) and literally skipped out of the shop. Shaking his head, he followed her out.

Out on the street Ginny was singing the chorus of 'I Feel Pretty,' and waving at random people.

"Would you stop that, I'm embarrassed."

"Embarrassed of what?"

"To admit we're that same species, now come on."

"Not even you could make me mad right now, Malfoy."

"Well, I can sure try. Let's go."

"Right." She said pulling out a small ceramic circle. Malfoy had already pulled a similar one out of his pocket. When they put them together they fit perfectly together.

Nothing happened. "Er, Malfoy, what are we supposed to do-"

A bright flash of light interrupted. She felt the pull of what seemed like a giant invisible hand, pulling her. It wasn't painful really, but it sent tingles down her spine. She landed unceremoniously in a heap on top of the ground, and unfortunately, on top of Malfoy.


	2. Chapter Two

Okay, just a few notes before we get started  
1) Yes, I know Ginny is supposed to have brown eyes, but I'm a redhead and I have brown eyes, so I know firsthand, it just doesn't work. So to save her the pain I have endured, I gave her green eyes so if you have a problem with it, oh well.  
  
2)Yes, I am the comma Queen and end up using a billion commas where there really shouldn't be any. I also end up with HUGE run on sentances so, again, I'm sorry, but I am aware of it. There is no use telling me.  
  
3)Please! This is my first attempt at writing fanfiction so all reveiws are appreciated! Helpful criticisms are wanted, but flames will just be laughed at. So without further ado, Chapter 2!  
  
Disclaimer- (okay, so a little more ado) I Own nothing except the plot. The rest belongs to the wonderful J. K. Rowling, who I am not, becuase if I were i would be writing another best selling book instead of a fanfiction.

* * *

"G'off." Came a muffled cry from underneath her. 

"What?" She asked, rolling onto the hard, damp ground. "I couldn't hear you."

"Never mind." He said and with catlike grace jumped to his feet. He wiped a nonexistent speck off his immaculately clean robes. Beside him he heard her stand up too.

"Like, a portkey," She mused to no one in particular. "But only activated when both pieces are in place. A handy little gadget if you ask me."

"Yeah that's why no one's gonna ask you, Weasley."

"Malfoy...?"

"Yes?" He asked sweetly.

"My robes are still green."

"Yes?"

"So?"

"So what?"

"So change them back, now!"

"I intend to, just as soon as we settle the terms of our agreement."

"What are you talking about?"

"The age of chivalry is dead, love. I saved you, now you owe me."

"What!?! Malfoy, you've gotta be kidding!" She was in a fury. How could anyone be so despicable and downright cruel? It was appalling. And the worst part was, he was right.

"Nobility isn't cheap."

"How dare you! You arrogant, evil, disgusting, swine!"

"You keep insulting me and pretty soon I'll start believing you really mean it."

"I _loath_ you, you evil, conniving, son of a-" (A/N get your head out of the gutter! The end of that was going to be Deatheater, it really was!)

He grabbed both her shoulders, forcing her against the castle wall, jostling her so hard she would have fallen had his grip not been so tight.

"I would be careful if I were you. You might get yourself hurt." He was smiling. His voice was clam, kind even, but his eyes flashed dangerously, an open display of his rage. She shivered, the cool September breeze leaving the stones cool to the touch. He seemed to take it as a gesture of submission because the look on his face turned from one of malice to one of crooked amusement.

Anger boiled within her. She wanted to yell, scream, punch him, something! But there was nothing she could do. Much as she hated to admit it, she was in his debt.

"Fine, what do you want?"

Malfoy was surprised, though his face showed no emotion. He had expected the feisty redhead to put up more of a fight, but it was just as well. He would have won out in the end anyway, he was a Malfoy after all, and Malfoys always win.

"I haven't quite decided yet."

"Well while you decide do you mind letting go? This hurts." She felt his grip loosen ever so slightly. He leaned closer and she could feel his warm breath on her face.

She breathed in and smelt the faint fragrance of his cologne. Instinctively she tried to pull away but found only the wall behind her. Besides, he was much stronger then she was, as she had already discovered. Until he wanted to let go, she was stuck.

_Oh Ginny! How do you ever get yourself into these things?_

His arms fell away from her shoulders but his body kept her tightly pinned where she was. His cold arms snaked around her neck and the soft material of his robes caressed her skin. For a moment he just stood there and when he finally pulled away she felt a weight, a cold presence, where there had been none before. On impulse she bought her hands to her neck where she felt the cool, smooth, surface of a necklace. Her fingers traced the line of the chain down to where it lay in the hollow of her neck. A fresh wave of repulsion swept over her, and without bothering with the latch, she tried to pull the thing off.

"It won't come off." Malfoy said stepping away. He was clearly in some wicked way amused with what he had done. "Not until you have repaid me."

"Malfoy, you slim, take it off! Now!"

He shrugged, "You know, I don't think I will. And just for that you can change your own stinking robes back."

"But that's not fair, I don't know how."

He shrugged again. "That's really not my problem now is it?" And with that he turned and walked away. Leaving a very, very, distressed Ginny in his wake.

* * *

Ginny stormed through the halls calling Draco Malfoy every bad name she could think of, and that was quite a few. It was amazing the influence five (six if you counted Harry) troublemaking brothers could have on a girl. 

"Balderdash." Ginny spat as she approached the Fat Lady.

"I'm sorry, dear, but I'm only allowed to let Gryffindors in."

"I'm Ginny Weasley! I _am_ in Gryffindor!"

She spent the better party of five minutes arguing with the lady in pink to let her in. The feud only ended when Seamus Finnigan saw her and verified her identity. She sent several first years running upon seeing her disheveled appearance (and many of which being forewarned of the infamous Weasley temper).

"So much for courage." She muttered sinking miserably into one of the many armchairs in the Common Room. From the couch three faces peered back at her, two in interest, one in fury.

"Virginia Anne Louise Weasley! What- the-heck-are-you-wearing!?!" Ron Weasley yelled, his face flushed.

"What don't you like them?" She asked sweetly.

"Why are you wearing _Slytherin_ robes?"

"Fine, Ron, you discovered my secret. Malfoy and I have been secretly dating for months and today at Hogsmeade he proposed. We're gonna elope tonight."

"What!?!"

Ginny glanced over at Harry and Hermione who were both turning an interesting shade of pink in an attempt not to laugh. Finally, Hermione started giggling madly.

"You think this is funny? _My sister_ has been sneaking around doing who-knows-what for who knows how long with _Malfoy. _Probably snogging in broom closets for all we know. Heck, they might've-could have- you didn't did you, Gin?"

Now Harry was laughing too. "I think she was just kidding, mate."

"Wait so you-Malfoy-you haven't- oh thank God!" He said throwing his arms around her in relief.

"So, um, why _are_ you dressed like that?"

"Stupid git transfigured it and I can't change them back."

Hermione waved her wand in front of Ginny and mumbled something.

"Nice one, Herm!" Ron said, happily clapping Hermione on her back, after examining Ginny's once again dingy grey robes. Hermione blushed a furious shade of pink, opened her mouth and emitted an awkward hiccup before racing up the stairs to her dormitory.

Harry and Ginny exchanged a look, while Ron, now looking greatly baffled said, "What'd I say?"

The redhead laughed at how clueless her brother was. Hermione had had a crush on him since the end of third year and he had yet to notice. With a final shake of her head she followed Hermione up the stairs. Hermione, in her room, was repeatedly hitting her head against the wall.

"Stop that."

"I (thump) acted (thump) so (thump, thump) stupid."

"Stop it, your forehead's getting all red. Come on, I need to talk to you."

"Go away. I want to mope in peace." She said, collapsing with a sigh onto her bed.

"He didn't even notice."

"The story of my life. Honestly, sometimes I think I could snog him senseless and that boy wouldn't notice."

"Hermione, if you really want him to like you, why don't you just go tell him you have feelings for him. It's obvious he likes you."

"Did he-did he say something?"

"Honestly, Hermione! You're as oblivious as he is. Why do you think he always stutters when you walk in the room? Or talks about Quidditch? He wants to impress you. All you two really need for a happy relationship is better communication skills and a convenient broom closet."

"Ginny!"

"Well, it's true. Feeling better?"

"No entirely, but it's nothing a quart of ice cream won't fix. You wanna come?"

"No, I think I'll go find Colin. See you later."

Ginny smiled as the older girl walked away. She was a good friend even if her love life was as complicated as a Polyjuice potion and twice as boring (growing up with six brothers really out a damper on the whole 'girl talk' thing). But still, she always seemed to be the one to make her feel most welcome with the trio. Not that she didn't have friends of her own, she did, it was just nice to feel wanted.

She found Colin in the Common Room playing chess with Dean Thomas.

"Can I talk to you-alone" She asked glancing at Dean.

"Sure babe. You heard the lady, get lost, Colin."

"I think she was talking to me."

"Fine but when you get bored you know where to find me, Gin."

"In your dreams, Thomas."

"Fine then, tonight. It's a date." He said, giving her a wink before he left. They had dated briefly over the summer. The breakup had been mutual so they had come out of it still friends. Dean treated the whole thing as a joke and still frequently flirted and teased. She really didn't mind, that was just the way Dean was with all girls.

"So, how'd you day with the Mal-ferret go?"

"Horribly. He teased me, I threatened him. I teased him, he threatened me. I was attacked by a crazy saleswoman with a robe fetish and-oh yeah- he saved my life."

"Wait, from the Saleslady?"

"No it was- it was awful, Colin." She said and for the first time that day she felt all her anger and pain and fear overwhelm her. Silent tears began to fall as she explained to him the events of the day. As she told her tale he wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. It was just too horrifying to think about what might have happened to her if Malfoy hadn't intervened when he had.

"Well, someone sure has had a busy day." He said as she pulled away. She sadly examined the wet spots her tears had left on his shirt. "Here's my question; why'd he help you in the first place?"

"Simple isn't it? He knew he'd have an advantage over me. The real question is, what'll he do now that he has it?"

"I don't really see how he's going to enforce the debt. I mean you two are the only ones who know, right?"

She was about to explain about the necklace when very suddenly, she felt a wave of dizziness and nausea wash over her. She closed her eyes and concentrated very hard on forcing the nausea down. When she opened them again she found Colin was holding her arms, supporting her.

"Maybe you should sit down."

"Yeah."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired. Anyway, what were we saying? Oh yes, about the debt, Malfoy-" She paused again as another spell of dizziness over came her. This time a series of images passed through her head; eating at the Three Broomsticks, the robes shop, Malfoy's arms gripping her own tightly.

"Ginny are you sure you're okay? Maybe you should see the nurse."

"Huh?

"You looked a little off...you sure you're okay?

"Oh, yeah, it's just I'm exhausted. I think I'll head to bed now. See you in the morning?"

"Of course, love. Good night."

"Sweet dreams Colin." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before she retreated to the warmth of her own bed.

* * *

Ginny, once again, rolled over and kicked the covers off. With them she was too hot, without them too cold. Her hair was damp with sweat. She ran her hand through it and down to the nape of her neck where she felt something oddly cold compared to her warm face. What was it? 

_The necklace._

How could she have forgotten it was there? She jumped out of her bed, stumbled to her mirror and threw on the light. The stone, a black opal, was offset by a pale silver setting. Her fingers caressed the teardrop shape and found it warm to the touch.

Darn Malfoy, how like him to find something pretty and evil! Darn Malfoy again! She would get that cursed thing off if it was the last thing she ever did.

Maybe Colin would know how to get it off. Telling Hermione was not an option, considering that would mean Ron finding out too. And if Ron and Harry found out they would kill Malfoy and then she'd _never_ get the stupid thing off. She would have to tell Colin first thing in the morning. Maybe, if she was lucky, they'd even have it off before classes.

* * *

At breakfast she had wanted to sit next to Colin, but his girlfriend, Marian, sat on his left, while Dean occupied his right. With a sigh, she took a seat between Harry and Seamus who were having an animated discussion on their favorite Quidditch teams. As she sat Seamus gave her a shy smile. Confused, she looked at Harry who offered no help, but instead only looked at his companion in amusement. 

In his slightly accented voice Seamus asked, "How was your summer, Ginny?"

"Lovely, thank you. Ron and I visited Charlie in Romania. He let me tag along while he worked with the dragons. A few even let me feed them."

"Wow, really? I've heard they only take food from humans they've taken a liking to."

She blushed slightly, "Yeah, well Charlie's really good with them, so I suspect I remind them of him."

"Don't be so modest. Maybe they just like you; they wouldn't be the only ones."

Ginny chocked on her pumpkin juice. Was Seamus _flirting_ with her?

"Are you okay, Gin?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

He returned to his conversation with Harry but twice she was sure she saw him glance at her when he thought she wasn't looking. She would have expected it from Dean, but Seamus? Soft-spoken, shy, Seamus? Ron must have bribed him to be nice to her, the only possible answer.

She was saved from any more of his disquieting looks by Luna who made her way slowly to the Gryffindor table, taking two steps forward and then one step back. Or rather two steps back and then one forward considering she was walking backwards.

"Luna! What are you doing? I'm going to laugh when you fall."

"Aye, my journey is a perilous one, but you get to see so much more of the world this way. Besides, it's Thursday and everyone knows walking backwards on a Thursday brings good luck."

"_Right_. Anyway...we had better be going if we don't want to be late for class."

"Correction, my dear, you had better be going in you don't want to miss class. This is my free period."

"Oh, right. I'll see ya, Luna, Harry, Seamus."

"Wait up, I'll walk you to class, Gin."

"Thanks Harry."

She saw Seamus taking one last look at her as she walked away. She'd really have to talk to Ron about that.

Herbology passed quickly. Harry and Ginny teamed up with Neville and were the first ones to successfully re-pot their Man-eating Fichus. Neville nearly _glowed _with pride.

After Pro. Sprout dismissed them they met up with Ron and Hermione (both coming from Advanced Muggle Studies) and headed towards Care of Magical Creatures class. Hagrid (thank goodness) had decided to start the year of small and, for once, not life threatening. All the Gryffindors and even the Ravenclaws enjoyed it. After class they made their way happily back to the castle. It should have been the perfect ending to a good day. Only it wasn't.

"Hello, Potty, Weasel." A smooth voice from behind them said. Ginny didn't even have to turn to see that Malfoy was smirking, she could _feel_ it.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Asked Harry.

"Nothing." He said sliding between the two boys. He brushed against her shoulder as he walked by and Ginny heard his soft voice whisper, "I like the necklace on you. Maybe you should keep it a while."

And, had it been anyone else she would have ignored it. Except it wasn't anyone else; it was Malfoy. So, doing the first thing that popped into her head, she punched him.

It was probably the first time she had ever seen Draco Malfoy truly shocked, and that look alone was enough that she'd do it all over again if she had the choice. His nose was bleeding freely as he looked up at her from the floor. And then he _smirked._

What right did he have to smirk at her? He was the one on the ground. The small gesture alone was enough to infuriate her all over again.

"Malfoy, you-"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you. Don't you think that you're in enough trouble as it is, Miss Weasley?" She turned only to have her worst fears confirmed. Professor Snape was standing right behind her, displaying the same smirk as his student. Why, of all the teachers to see her deck Malfoy did it have to be _Snape?_ Was the whole Slytherin house out to get her?

_Well that was a stupid question. Of course they are._

Snape was going to kill her. She was going to die and never see sixteen. Goodbye sweet world...

"Well? Have you got an explanation for your repulsive behavior?"

"Yes." She said defiantly. If she was going to die at least people would remember her. "I was provoked."

"Provoked, you say? And what, pray tell, did Mister Malfoy say to provoke you?"

"He came within a foot of my person. If that's not enough to make a person want to hit something I don't know what is." She said, starting to walk in the direction of Pro. McGonagall's office. She turned and tapped her foot impatiently when he didn't follow. "Come along now Professor, don't dawdle." And started of again.

By the time they reached her office, Pro. McGonagall was already waiting for them.

"Miss Weasley! I am absolutely appalled, by your behavior! I would have expected this from one of your brothers, but you? I always thought you were smarter then that. Let me just say that- Severus, what are you still doing here? I am quite capable of disciplining _my _student, thank you."

The potions master stood opening and closing his mouth for a moment, as though he was at a loss as to what to say. It was obvious he was not used to being on the receiving end of a teacher's lecture. He opened his mouth one, final time, like he was about to argue, but caught the other professor's eye and decided against it. She was livid.

"Yes, ah, good day, then." He said before rapidly retreating out of the office.

"Now, I do hope you have an explanation for your actions or else I'll have to give you detention."

"Well, Ma'am, it started when-" She began to feel the same dizziness that had visited her the previous night. "I'm, not feeling well Professor."

"Really, now I would have expected..." Ginny was having a hard time following what the woman was saying.

_I didn't know Professor McGonagall had a twin._

"... really, I know, believe me I know, how hard it can be trying to put up with people like Draco Malfoy but we must..."

_Why won't McGonagall's sister be still already?_

"... you really must understand how difficult..." Ginny was feeling slightly sick trying to follow Pro. McGonagall, who was becoming more and more blurry.

_Isn't she getting dizzy, spinning like that?_

_She isn't spinning, _another voice in her head argued, _you are._

"Miss Weasley! I would expect you to listen to me while I talk!"

"Well, I would if you would only be still!"

And before she sunk into total darkness, somewhere in the back of her mind she realized nothing was spinning except the room.

* * *

Hit the button!  
  
And thank you to all my reviewers from chapter one! I love you guys! Warm-fuzzies all around! 


	3. Chapter Three

Hey guys! First i just want to say thanks to all my reviewers. I love you guys! Also I'd like make afew note about the story. First, I know there are errors, hopefully none of them are too major. I read my story billions of times before i post it and try to fix all the mistakes but even still the chapters are riddled with errors, so I'm sorry! But if I was going to make it perfect it would takes weeks to even get a page typed.

Secondly, to anyone who doesn't think there had been enough Draco in the story, I'm sorry. I promise there will be more of him in the next chapters.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Wish I did, but I don't. Everything here belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling except the plot, but she can have that too if she wants it.

* * *

Ginny awoke in the hospital wing. She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in her head stopped her. She laid her head back down and went to sleep.

* * *

When Ginny Weasley opened her eyes again she was dressed in the standard flannel pajamas of the Hospital Wing. Beside her Ron was asleep in a waiting room chair and Colin's head rested at the foot of her bed. 

"Hello?"

Madame Pomfrey scurried over to her bed. "Oh, good, you're awake."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"Two, two and a half hours," The woman replied ladling some vile substance into a glass, which she handed promptly to Ginny. Colin sat up and shook his head groggily.

"Ginny, how are you feeling?"

"Better, thank you."

"You still have to drink that." The nurse said firmly.

"Darn, well, bottoms up." She said and reluctantly drank the liquid.

"Now, if you don't mind, could you please tell me what happened before you fainted?"

"Well, Pro. McGonagall was scolding me, and then the room started spinning. I felt like I was going to throw up." She wished she could remember something more, but she couldn't seem to.

"Have you eaten anything unusually that could have caused you body to react oddly?"

"No, not that I know of."

"Hmmm... well I found no signs of illness. Have you had these feelings of dizziness before?"

"She wasn't feeling well last night." Colin offered.

She nodded. "I had forgotten about that."

"Have you been having feelings of fatigue or exhaustion?"

"Yes, I have lately, but I don't think-"

"Hmmmm... it almost sounds like a memory charm." The two students looked skeptically at her. "But I found no sign that your state was caused by magic. I can find no other conclusion other then your affliction was caused by extreme exhaustion unless there is something else you would like to tell me."

"No, not that I can think of."

"Well, just to be safe, I'd like to keep you in for observation until tomorrow evening."

"But, tomorrow is Friday! I can't miss class; it's only my fourth day!"

"I'm sorry dear, but I just want to make sure you're alright before I release you, you understand. Now go to sleep, you need your rest."

"But-"

"Listen to her, Gin, she knows what she's talking about. Goodnight, sweetheart."

"'Night Colin." She said and before she could say anymore she felt the effects of what had no doubt been a sleeping potion begin to kick in.

"What'd I miss?" Ron asked sleepily, rousing from his nap.

"I'll explain it on the way back to the common room. Say goodnight." He said to the older boy as though he was talking to very small child.

"Goodnight, Gin." Her brother said blearily and stumbled after Colin.

* * *

"Neville! For the millionth time, I am OKAY! I swear!" 

"Are you sure, Gin, because if you start to feel sick again..."

"I feel fine."

Neville was a great friend, really he was, but sometimes he just didn't know when to shut up. He could be so annoying sometimes. She had already told him at least a billion times in the past three days that she wasn't sick. Despite her constant pleas he still insisted on keeping a constant watch over her and walking her to class. Which in a weird way was an indication of his concern, considering her first class of the day was Potions, and it took something really important to get Neville down into the dungeons of his own account.

"But...are you sure? I mean it's weird, people don't just faint for no reason. It's weird."

"Neville..." They had arrived at the potions classroom, Neville was twitching slightly as he looked at it.

"And why would Madame Pomfrey bring up magic? Does she think someone could have cursed you? Why a memory charm? It's odd, Ginny, just plain odd."

"It's not odd at all and if you weren't such a remedial student, maybe you would know that Mr. Longbottom." A voice hissed from within the classroom. "Now, I don't believe you are in this class, so leave before I deduct points from your house."

"Bye Neville." Ginny whispered and walked into class.

"Miss Weasley, your tardiness shows a blatant disrespect for the fine art of potions.

"Oh no Professor, I like potions. I just-"

"Then you must just feel you too advanced for this class, is that it? In that case, tell me why patients who lose consciousness without other symptoms are tested for memory charms? Not so chatty now, are we? Well can you at least tell me the key ingredients of a memory draught?"

"Jade leaf and bat eyes."

"Very well, take your seat. I expect a 16" essay on Memory charms -ingredients, side effects, uses- by the end of the week."

She sat in the only available seat in the front next to a dark haired Slytherin. Since there were so few students who got accepted into Advanced Potions all the houses were condensed into one class period. She took a mental tally: one Hufflepuff, six Ravenclaws, nine Slytherins and herself.

"Snape must really like you," Her partner said. "Any other Gryf would have gotten detention for sure. You got off easy."

"I hardly call getting 16" essay on Memory Charms getting off easy."

"Anything is better then detention with Snape."

"Well, I can't argue with that logic."

"Why not? You argue with everything else?" An all too familiar voice said.

She turned her glaze skyward. "What did I do to deserve this?" She muttered. She turned and saw the smirking face of none other then Draco Malfoy.

"Talking to yourself, Weaslette? That's a bad sign."

"Running out of good insults this early, Malfoy? I'd expect better then that from you."

"Well, I do try, but really Weasley, once you get past those hideous spots on your face and that ugly red hair, there's really not that much to say. You're pretty boring."

"Why don't you do everyone a favor and shut it, ferret boy?"

"Man, don't you guys every give it a rest?" The other Slytherin asked.

"You're either with me or against me. I'm in a bad mood and in arms reach of potentially dangerous potion ingredients. I'd stay out of it." She said evilly.

"Geez, Draco, you're right. She is mental."

"Told you so, probably all that Weasley inbreeding."

"And you'd know all about that wouldn't you Malfoy? You're the only person I know whose family tree is straight."

"Miss Weasley! Must I take points from Gryffindor?" Snape yelled.

Malfoy smirked.

"And you Mr. Malfoy. I would hate to have to take points from my own house."

Malfoy looked as though he had just been struck. Snape _never_ took points from his own house unless it was absolutely necessary, and even then he was easy on his students. But Snape had never, ever, threatened to punish _Draco Malfoy_. Especially not for patronizing a Weasley.

"But Professor-"

"Your seat, Mr. Malfoy! Now!"

Malfoy sullenly went back to his seat.

"Sorry about him." Ginny's partner said. "He's a nice guy once you get to know him. He just goes a little overboard sometimes.

The redhead looked at him as though he'd sprouted an extra head. Draco Malfoy? Nice? And he called her mental.

"I'm Blaise Zabini, by the way."

She nodded, the name sounding somewhat familiar. "And I'm Ginny Weasley."

"Nice to meet you Ginny. Could you pass me the- hey wait a minute!"

"What?" She asked looking into the cauldron.

"He wants us to make a Strengthening Potion but we don't have any beetle eyes."

Ginny examined the ingredients on the work table in front of them. They had been instructed to create the potion using only the components provided, but Blaise was right; there weren't any beetle eyes. But there was eye of newt.

"So, we double the portion of eye of newt and that will make up for the lack of beetles."

"But it will also make the potion highly unstable. It could have nasty side effects."

"True..."

"Eucalyptus!" He cried happily. "We could use Eucalyptus leaves to stabilize it."

"Yeah, that just might work." They worked for the remainder of the period without instance. When it came time for them to turn in their creations at the end of class, only two other groups had successfully produced the potion. To her annoyance, one of them was Malfoy's.

* * *

Draco woke up the next morning feeling as though he hadn't slept at all. With a groan he rolled over to face Blaise who was sleeping in the next bed over. He tossed a pillow at his friend. 

"What was that for?"

"Well, Sleeping Beauty, we only have ten minutes before class. I just thought you might want to know."

Blaise looked at his watch and swore loudly as the two jumped out of their beds and ran for the showers.

As they reached the Great Hall for breakfast they found it already deserted, except for the last of the stragglers who were apparently trying to delay the enviable fact that they would have to go to class. The huge tables had already been cleared of their food.

"Ah crap." Malfoy said. And headed off, with a grumbling stomach, to his first class.

* * *

When Draco reached the infirmary there were only two other people present; Madame Pomfrey and Ginny Weasley. 

_What is SHE doing her? _He thought bitterly as his stomach growled especially loud.

"Mr. Malfoy, you're tardy."

"Malfoys are never tardy, only fashionably late." He said. Madame Pomfrey glared at him.

"See to it that it doesn't become a habit."

With his most charming Malfoy smile he said, "Of course not, Madame."

Even the poor old bat fell victim to his charm and blushed.

"Well, in any instance, it appears you are not the only one late for class. Professor Snape has not shown up yet. I might as well begin without him. You two have been chosen to-"

"Wait, a minute? Do you mean _she_ is the other student?"

"Why yes, Mr. Malfoy. Is there a problem?"

"She's a Weasley! How did she get into this class?"

"The same way as you did, with talent and perseverance."

"Malfoy, you mean to tell me you spent the entire day shopping with me and didn't realize why?"

"No, I told you I was trying to ignore you. Besides how was I supposed to know all that was for Magical Healing?"

"Well, didn't you buy your supplies?"

"Of course not." He sniffed indignantly. "Some of us have _servants_ to do that kind of thing for us. Though I suppose you wouldn't know."

"Enough you two! This is a class room, and moreover it's a hospital. You will keep your voices down. We mustn't disturb the patients."

The two teenagers looked around at the empty hospital beds.

"What patients? We're the only ones here, you crazy old bat!"

"Mr. Malfoy, I will have to ask you to refrain from calling your instructor a crazy old bat, no matter how close it is to the truth." Pro. Snape said from the entrance to the infirmary.

He made his way over to them (smirking of course) and looked first at him, then at Ginny.

"You two will be working together this year. Aside from dropping the course, which I doubt either of you wish to do there is no way around it. I expect you to do all your work and do it as a team. I expect no arguing or bickering; it gives me a headache. You two have been chosen out of all the students in you year because of your gift in Potions and your apparent interest in medicine. You will do all the work assigned to you by Madame Pomfrey or myself. You are required to be here at least three nights a week for training in the infirmary. If either of you, at any point, cannot or will not abide by these rules you will be cut from the class. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded, and with more then a little hesitation, Ginny nodded too.

"Good. Here is your first assignment."

He handed them each a sheet of parchment with instructions on it. The potion was meant to relieve headaches. Madame Pomfrey led them to a back room of the infirmary which had been set up to resemble the potions room.

"Hand it in before the end of class."

"Wait, you're leaving? Aren't you going to, like, teach us something?"

"Miss Weasley, this class is to test your _aptitude_ as much as anything else. Yes there will be days I will be in here with you, but other times I want to see what you can accomplish without me."

"Great," She mumbled as the older woman left the room.

"So, um, what are we supposed to do now?"

"What do you think, Weasley? Make the potion."

"Oh, right." He watched her make way to the storage closet; how she recognized it he wasn't sure. She pulled out several bottles of various shapes and color. He immediately took the numerous bottles from her and began measuring the require amounts of each component with great care. She reached to take the flask containing Dragons Breath but he grabbed her wrist and stopped her.

"What do you think you're doing, Weasley?"

"Um, measuring."

"Oh no you're not."

"And why is that?"

"My grade depends on this. I won't have you messing it up."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Get out of my way."

"Malfoy! That's not fair; I am just as capable as you are."

"You're not capable to wipe the dirt of my shoes, Weasley. I don't know who you had to pay to get in this class, and really I don't care. All I know is that I won't fail this class because some stupid Weasel got in here and thinks she can even begin to compare to me. You, Weasley, will always be below me."

"Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"You just put in the wrong amount of dragon's breath."

"I did not."

"Did too. Look it's turning green; it's _supposed _to be blue."

"I know what it's _supposed_ to look like. Obviously these ingredients are just faulty."

"Yeah..._right_. Look, just admit you're wrong and get over it."

"Malfoys are never wrong." He said haughtily. Watching he face get more and more red as she tried not to lose her temper. It was really an amusing game; bait her and see how long it took her to crack.

"Well obviously they are, because if they weren't your potion would be blue!"

"I suppose you think you could do better, Weasley?"

"As a matter of fact, yes, I do."

"Fine then, be my guest." He said and stepped away with a mock bow.

Instantly she set to work, all the time muttering about "those darn Malfoys" and "idiot teachers who leave you alone with that darn Malfoy." Eventually (after several comments from the darned Malfoy in question about muttering being the first sign of insanity) the mumbling subsided. Instead she focused on the task before her, taking careful measurements and once in a while taking notes on her parchment. He watched, amused, how her face screwed up with concentration and how she bit her lower lip when she thought. Occasionally she would tug on her glossy red locks as if trying to pull the thought from her head. Once she even got up and pulled another ingredient from the closet, though he couldn't imagine why when she clearly had all she needed in front of her.

Finally, nearly twenty minutes later, she looked up from her work and smiled delightedly.

"Finished." She announced. He examined the completed potion. It was a deep blue with the thick, murky consistency of paste. He ladled a small amount into a flask and with her following close behind, left the back room to find Madame Pomfrey.

"Done so soon?" Their instructor asked cheerfully.

"Yes Ma'am." The redhead beside him answered, equally cheerful.

"Well, let's see here..." She examined the potion carefully. "Good color and consistency... hmmm... what's this?" She asked smelling the liquid.

"Lily pollen, it sweetens the taste and smell of the potion without lessening the affectedness."

"You enhanced the potion? That takes skill, my dears. I'm very pleased." The plump woman said smiling, and then continued her in inspection of the potion.

"See Malfoy, admit it, I did well." The girl said once the older woman had walked away.

"Whatever."

"Admit it, I was right and you were wrong."

"Whatever, Weasley."

"Geez, why won't you just own up to the fact that I am just as good as you are?"

"Because, you will never be as good as I am."

"I do believe that I just got us an A on that assignment."

"Yeah, but I'm not the one who just got tricked into doing all the work, now am I?" Draco turned and walked away.

"Malfoy, where are you going? The bell hasn't rung yet."

He paused just long enough to turn and face her. As he did the bell dismissing them rang. "Now it has." He said and then walked away.

She sighed. It was going to be one long year.

* * *

ARG... I don't like this chapter very much, but I hope you did. Please, this is my first fanfic, so if you have any suggestions or comments please review. I'll try and update soon (if you guys want me to). And please, NO FLAMES. if you don't like it email me and tell me how to make it better. Also, one of my friends let me know that i still had it set to bloke anonymous reveiwers, but i have fixed that. So if you tried to review before and couldn't, you can now. Draco plushies to all my reveiwers! 


	4. Chapter Four

First of all… I'm SOOOOOOOOOOOO sorry it took so long for the update. I really thought I'd have this done all the way back at Thanksgiving but… that just didn't happen. I know I'm a horrible person.Thanks to those of you who E-mailed me and told me to update soon (Cat!) It's so nice to see that people are actually enjoying it. (Yes, I know; I'm a sentimental old fool)

**_Disclaimer: _**I own nothing you recognize from the books. No money is being made from this or any exploitation of the characters or plots belonging to J.K. Rowling. So please don't sue me because I have no money.

(P.S. I couldn't get the default line thing to work so... anywhere you see an 'A' with a bunch of exclamtion points it means the scene is changing.)

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Draco walked into the common room and slowly eased himself into one of the soft, black couches. He couldn't imagine _where _Blaise could be. What good was it to be fashionably late if the other person didn't have the common courtesy to be on time?

"Hey, Draco." Blaise said walking into the common room as if on cue.

"You're late."

"I'm sorry; I was just finishing up some homework." He said gesturing to an essay he had set down on the table in front of them. Draco took it and began to read.

_The properties of the Iris petal as a key component in many healing potions are not amazing in themselves; it is the vastness of its uses that are truly phenomenal. The petal is used in every thing from concoctions to relieve headaches to restoring broken bones. The exceptionally amazing property of the petal…_

"You got to be kidding me."

"What?"

"It actually looks like you researched this."

"So?" Blaise said defensively, grabbing back his parchment and affectionately smoothing it.

"You mean to tell me you actually went to the library, researched your topic _and_ wrote a one thousand word essay in…" He paused and looked at his watch. "Forty-five minutes?"

"Ginny helped. What'd you do to her anyhow, she was pretty… peeved."

"Weasley? Weasley helped you with your homework?"

Uncertainly he replied, "Yes?"

"So you spent the last hour in the library doing homework with the Weasel's little sister?"

"Well we didn't just do homework. And don't look at me like that we didn't snog. We just talked."

"You talked? What could you possible have spent an hour talking about?"

"Different things, you know. Classes, quidditch, relationships-"

"Wait, are you saying you talked to Weasley about girls?"

"Well, yeah, she really-"

"Relationships? Really, Blaise, what's next? You gonna have a sleepover, paint your toenails and share your feelings?"

"Geez, I don't know why I put up with you."

"Because you know, you secretly love me. Just like everybody else in the world."

"Yeah…_that's_ it, Draco."

"Well it's true."

"So, are you ever going to tell me what you did to Ginny?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said innocently. Then, standing, he said, "So are we going or not?"

Blaise grabbed his broom and followed his companion out to the pitch.

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It had to be at least midnight. She was going to _kill_ Snape for making her write this stupid essay. And then maybe she'd use his body to beat Malfoy…

She smiled to herself; there was always a bright side.

Unfortunately it didn't contain the five more inches of information on memory charms she needed. She drifted off to sleep with images of painful ways to torture Malfoy dancing in her head.

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"Ouch!"

"Ron, shut up!"

"I'm sorry but this thing is too small for the two of us."

"Shhhhh."

"Huh?" Ginny asked, sitting up and rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Who's there?"

Suddenly two familiar heads materialized, apparently levitating in midair.

"Oh, good, it's only you, Gin." Her brother said, the rest of his body emerging. The remaining parts of Harry appeared beside him. At least they both had the decency to look shamefaced; it was nearly 3 A.M. and they were just now returning from some midnight excursion that was almost certainly against the rules. Not to mention they had woken her up from her nap.

"Sorry for waking you."

"What are you doing? It 3 in the morning! You know, I don't even want to know."

"And that's why I love you so darn much." Ron said leaning over and kissing her on the cheek.

"What are you doing out here?" Harry inquired.

She groaned. "Stupid potions essay. Due tomorrow and I still need another five inches."

Sitting down and examining her essay, Ron asked, "You need some help?"

"I've read all these stupid books. Twice. And I still don't have enough."

"That's what you get for waiting until the night before it's due to get it done."

"Arrrggg. You're really starting to sound like Hermione, you know." She said, somewhat bitterly considering she had gotten the same lecture from Hermione already. At the same time Harry coughed something that sounded suspiciously like "Whipped".

It really wasn't fair to blame her for procrastinating. She _would_ have done it sooner except she had spent every afternoon that week in the Infirmary. And could she really be blamed? She _had_ to be there. Well, at least three of the days she had to be there, admittedly the other had been of her own accord. But still, she found it new and thrilling. Madame Pomfrey had even allowed her to heal minor afflictions such as headaches and sprains by herself. For more major problems she had been permitted to assist and observe the nurse. On slow nights Ginny busied herself with small tasks such as organizing the supple cabinet and re-labeling the potions ingredients. The only down side was that she had bear spending two of those nights with Malfoy, nights that had been silently endured on both parts.

She threw her hands up in exasperation. "Thanks for the offer, but I really just need more research."

Harry grinned. "How about a trip to the library?"

She looked doubtful. "It's late, the library is closed."

His grin widened as he held up the invisibility cloak the two boys had previously been wearing. "Ginny, Ginny, Ginny…have the twins taught you nothing? Rules are meant to be broken."

"Oh, Harry, your cloak! You don't mind?"

"No, course not." He replied handing her the glinting material of the cloak. "Just so long as you don't get caught."

"I won't, I promise."

Quickly she gathered her quill and parchment and shoved them into her knapsack. She slipped under the cloak making sure no part of her was visible.

"Do you want to come along?" She asked, peeking her head out. In response, Ron yawned.

"Too tired. Good luck." Harry said and followed his friend sleepily up the stairs.

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She sneaked quietly up the steps, careful to avoid the ones that creaked.

"Lumos."

She paused, listening for any noise. Hearing none she gingerly slipped the cloak off and searched the shelves for an appropriate title. Once she found one she sat down at one of the deserted tables and unrolled her parchment trying to ignore how eerie the vacant library seemed in the dim lighting.

She glanced once again at her watch (3:15) before setting to work.

_Memory Charm is the generic term for the many spells and potions used to modify a person's memory._

She read from the old, yellow pages of the book. For a moment she considered just copying her report straight out of the huge volume; it was so old surely no one would recognize it. But then again, knowing her luck, Snape probably had every potions book in existence memorized. With a moan she continued reading the ancient book.

_Many times they are used to strip a person of only one memory but can successfully block weeks, or even years worth of memories. A recent patent of St. Mungo (one Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart) had twenty-five years of his memory erased in a freak accident. The strength of spell varies directly with the length of time needing to be erased. The charm is weaker when applied to eradicate memories of greater lengths and therefore will not last as long as spells that span a lesser duration. Three basic types of Memory Charms are Reverie Incantations, Dazing Charms and Memory Draughts. Reverie Incantations are perhaps the most complex and rare. The spell creates or replaces a memory with one that never actually occurred but appears completely authentic to the individual affected. _

_Dazing Charms are placed upon one a specific item, as opposed to a person. They also frequently act as a binding charm and disable the recipient from being able to discuss the given object. The individual who comes into contact with the item in question often experiences confusion, dizziness, or suddenly remembers a pressing previous appointment. In rare cases if the person continues to resist the spell it can lead to nausea and even loss of consciousness. _

Clutching the chain around her neck the redhead managed, "Oh, crap. This is bad, this is very, _very, _bad."

She lay asleep, her red hair spilling in disarray over the books that lay open on the desk, and her quill lay abandoned in a puddle of ink. It was the sound of a door closing that woke her. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and attempted to smooth her hair.

"Ah, heck." She said, realizing for the first time where she was. The library. And not just the library, oh no, in the _restricted _section. "Ah, heck." She repeated.

Grabbing her essay and quill along with the cloak she turned to leave. It was the sight of the numerous books lying open upon the table that stopped her. If she didn't put them away Madame Pince would know someone had been there.

"Crap. Oh, please don't come in." She begged quietly as she moved to replace them. She threw them haphazardly on the shelves and prayed Madame Pince wouldn't notice.

Slipping on the cloak she carefully opened the door enough that she could see out of it. The librarian was checking the shelves on the opposite side of the library. Assured that the coast was clear she opened the door enough to slip her slim frame through it. To her horror it creaked and she saw the older woman turn towards the noise. Ginny ran the rest of the way out of the library and into the hall.

She stopped to catch her breath only when she was sure it was safe.

_Well that was close._

Leaning against the castle wall for support she quickly removed the cloak and threw it into her pack.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" A familiar voice from behind her drawled.

_Of course. Of course of all the people to see me it HAD to be him. I should've seen this coming. _

"Long night, Weasley?"

She blanched realizing how horrible she probably looked, with her day old robes wrinkled and her telltale red hair sticking up.

"You know, I really think I should take points from your house for your roaming around in an out of bounds area."

"I'm not in an out of bounds area!"

"Well, I know that and you know that, but I don't know how keen Professor Snape would be to believe it."

"Shut up Malfoy. I hate you." She spat vehemently. "I hate you more then I've ever hated anyone in my life."

She watched, in horror of what she had just said, as his eyes darkened. He smiled.

"Ahh, you figured out my little secret, did you?"

"That's right and I'm going to tell Dumbledore."

"You _can't_ tell Dumbledore." He said waving his hand in dismissal and rolling his eyes. "You can't tell anyone. I thought you'd figure that out the first time you tried to tell that sniveling Creevy kid about it."

"As soon as you take this thing off I'm going to tell everyone."

"All the more reason not to take it off."

"Then what good would it do you? You'd just lose your bargaining chip."

"You really believe that's all the necklace is good for? No, no, love, it has all kinds of fun tricks about it."

From somewhere in the distance she heard a door shut and footsteps approaching. Before she could reply he leaned forward, close enough that the smell of his cologne drifted to her nose.

He whispered almost inaudibly, "Remember, our little secret."

And in a billow of black robes he was gone leaving Ginny to fume and hope he was bluffing. Somehow, she doubted he was.

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**I'm gonna try to update again before Christmas. Thanks to all my reviewers. I love you guys!**

**Please review! It makes me happy.**

**I leave you with the words of the infamous Al Capone. **

_You get more with a kind word and a big gun then with just a kind word._

**(Grins evilly while holding a gun to a Draco plushy)**

**Hehehehe….**


	5. Chapter Five

Hehehe...I'm baaacccckkkk! I know this is a short chapter. Sorry! I've noticed that their getting progressivly shorter. But anyway...I'm going on vacation for the holidays so won't be able to update for about two weeks. But after that I promise to give you a nice long chapter...unless of course no one's reading this in which case I'll just write a nice long chapter anyway and my friends will support me in my time of denial. Umm...just a little note about the story. I'm trying not to make Ginny too helpless or Mary-Sueish so feel free to email me and tell me if I'm failing miserably (just don't use those words or I might cry...). As always I love my reviewers! Ya'll are awesone (yes, yes I know I'm Southern).

Yeah!!!!They fixed the line thingey! It used to take me like an hour to post becauseI couldn't figure it out. I'm not...technologically inclined.

Disclaimer: checks mirror Darn...nope still not J.K. Rowling. I onw nothing, thoughI wishI did.

* * *

"Draco, honey, what's wrong?" 

"Sod off Parkinson."

The girl tossed her blond locks and allowed her lower lip to quaver slightly. "Drake, what's wrong? You've been so… moody lately."

"I said _sod off_." He said, slamming his dormitory door in her face and, in fury kicked it.

"Awww, did wittle Drakie-poo have a bad day?"

"Out. Now."

"What, your time of the month already?"

"Blaise, leave now if you value your life."

His dorm mate looked indignant but he got up and gathered his cloak nonetheless, mumbling, "It's my room too, you know."

He smiled sweetly in reply, "Not if I murder you in your sleep."

Grumbling something along the lines of, "Stuck up, egotistical, hair obsessed twit," Blaise closed the door, narrowly missing the shoe Draco hurled at him.

In a very un-Malfoy like display of rage he tore the sheets off his bed and threw them across the dorm, pitched his lamp upon the floor and dumped the remaining contents of his trunk around the room. Felling satisfied with the degree of chaos he had provoked he dropped heavily down upon his now bare bed to fume. What right did the Weasley brat have to threaten him? To say that she hated him? She had never experienced hate, experienced pain, the way he had.

_Get control, _he ordered himself, _Malfoys do not lose control, don't get mad. They get even._

_Malfoy! _Another part of him spat. _Like your father?_

_Flashback _

_It was the summer before his seventh year and Draco couldn't be happier. It was warm and bright outside, promising to be a good day. His father had already agreed to take him to Knockturn Alley and let him pick out anything he liked as a reward for becoming Head Boy. He was approaching his father's study when he heard the distinct high tones of his mother's voice. He paused and listened to what the two were discussing. _

"_Lucius, it's too soon: he's just a boy." Draco bristled. He was NOT just a boy. _

"_He's seventeen. A year older then I was." Draco felt assured by his father's confidence. Too young for what he didn't know, but if his father said he was ready he was; his father was always right._

"_You fool!" He paused. He had never heard his mother insult his father. The two argued nearly constantly but she had never blatantly insulted him. It irked him. After all, Narcissa had been quiet and subservient all her life. What right did she now have to insult her husband? "You idiot. You'll kill him. You'll kill our son!"_

_Curiosity got the best of him and he opened the door enough that he could peek through and see his parents. As he did he saw his father's hand strike Narcissa's cheek, leaving a deep red mark across her pale face. Draco almost betrayed himself by crying out, but caught himself just in time. He had never seen him strike his mother before. _

_She had tears running down her face as she cried out, "I don't want this for my son."_

"_He's not just your son; he's my heir. And the Dark Lord wishes it."_

"_Screw the Dark Lord! Let him rot in-" She stopped abruptly and screeched in pain as he once again brought his hand sharply across her face. _

"_You wretched, impudent, wench! He could have heard you!"_

"_Good! I hope he did! He can kill me- and you for all I care- just as long as he doesn't hurt Draco."_

"_You poor, misguided fool. Cruciatus."_

_His mother shrieked, and from his hiding place he could see her fall to the floor. She writhed in pain and as she did his father bent down. Lucius grabbed his wife's shoulders and forced her flailing body into a sitting position._

"_You know this is hurting me more then it hurts you, love, buts it really just for your own good." He said, smiling indulgently as though he was scolding a naughty child. His face then became hard._

"_Don't cross me Narcissa. I wouldn't want to see you get hurt." Something went cold in Draco as he watched his mother's body go still. He panicked for a moment, before he saw her chest moving shallowly up and down. His fear turned to rage as he watched his father examine Narcissa's battered form with cold, impartial, indifference. _

_Lucius stood and turned to leave. _

_Draco dashed behind a large marble statue as his father emerged from the door he had been hiding behind only a second before. He waited there until the echo of his father's footsteps on the stone floor had disappeared. He ran into the room._

"_Mother! Mother… Mother?" _

_When she spoke her voice was a croak, "Here, Darling."_

_She was lying on the floor, panting heavily. She had a bruise on her cheek that was much to dark to have been caused by being slapped. She must have hit the desk while she fell._

_She reached out and grabbed his hand fervently. "I love you, Draco."_

"_I love you too, Mother." His mother had loved him without restraint and though she hardly told him, he always knew it._

"_Draco, you mustn't –"_

"_Shhh…rest Mother." He said, pausing before pulling her head into his lap._

"_You always were better then him. You must promise me you won't do it." _

"_Do what Mother? Mother?" _

_But when he looked down at her he found she had already drifted off to sleep._

_End Flashback_

Feeling a renewed wave of anger he clenched his fist. The day was burned vividly in his mind, a permanent reminder of the pain his mother had experienced. It was the first time he had ever seen his father physically harm Narcissa (though from what his mother told him not the first time he had). Standing there, seeing the serene smile his father had had upon casting the spell, was the first time he had ever really seen his father for what he really was. Was he so uncaring that he could torture his wife without a second thought? Or was it just he was so used to torturing people?

He had had major qualms with the thought of leaving his mother alone with Lucius for the school year; it worried him.

With a slight twinge of uneasiness, he realized he hadn't heard from his mother in nearly two weeks. The boy set about looking through the destruction that was his room for a piece of parchment. Once he had found a sheet he took out a quill and scribbled a quick note.

_Mother,_

_How are you? Doing well I hope. I was just writing to see how things were back home. Things here are terribly boring, as usual. Dumbledore has once again refused my petition to can McGonagall and make Snape Deputy Headmaster. He's the only fair teacher here. I hope to see you soon._

_With all my love,_

_Your dearest son,_

_Draco _

It was a pathetic letter really. It hardly took up two lines on the parchment, but he wanted to make sure she was okay. He sighed slowly, before standing up and trudging off to the owlrey.

* * *

"What's up, Gin?" 

"Here." She said hurling her pack at him. He pulled the invisibility cloak out of it.

"Are you just now getting back?" Harry asked, eyeing her with concern.

"Yes."

"You might want to…er… wash up before class."

She resisted the urge to say 'duh'. After all it wasn't Harry's fault she was having a horrible day.

"Thanks."

"Hey, Gin! Are you just getting back?"

She rolled her eyes. Ron had never had great timing.

"Yes."

"Well, you look like one of Crookshanks's fur balls." She cringed.

"Thank you for that lovely imagery Ron."

"Don't get all snippy. I'm not the one who didn't do their potions essay."

Ginny glowered.

"Ahh…Ron mate, I think you should quite while you're ahead."

"Ron, I really feel the need to hit something and if you don't want it to be your face I would suggest you shut up."

"I was only kidding."

"Look at me. Does it really look like I'm in a funny sort of mood right now?"

"Err… point taken."

She addressed Harry, "I have to go get ready, see ya later, okay?"

"Yeah… see you Gin."

She climbed the stairs up to her dorm and threw the door open. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror that hung on the wall. Her red hair was knotted and untidy, her robes just as disheveled. Her face was flushed, which only proved to make the ink satin on her cheek seem more distinct. How had that gotten there?

She swore, realizing Malfoy had seen her like this.

He was the only person she had ever known who could make her so mad. Not even her brothers with their annoying and slightly life-threatening antics had ever managed to get her so riled.

She grabbed at the necklace and futilely tried to remove it. She sighed, knowing it was no use and at the same time not wanting to surrender.

_What's your secret?_ She wondered, staring dejectedly at the placid surface of the stone. She would find out if she had to spend every moment for the next year in the library.

* * *

Yeah! You managed to make it through yet another chapter. As always feel free to reveiw (or email) me with any suggestion and/or comments. Flames will be laughed at. 

Speaking of which...Thank you to Queen Thayet! My knight in shining armor! My gallent defender against the evil of The Counter! You are so wonderful!

Happy Christmas! Enjoy your holidays and eat lots of cake.

Please review. It makes me happy.


	6. Chapter Six

(A/N) Ok...so I lied, this one's not longer. Sorry! Read it anyway. And sorry about the dely, like I said I've been on vacation. Hope you guys had an awesome Christmas...Holiday... whatever.

Umm...mostly Draco in this chapter. And Snape. Hehehe the plot thickens.

Disclaimer:Nope, sorry, still don't own it.

* * *

Professor Severus Snape could feel the painful aching in his arm permeating his entire body; one of his headaches was coming on again. He rubbed his temples in annoyance. How had _any_ of these kids get into advanced potions? None of them had any aptitude for it. Well, that wasn't completely true, all his Slytherins did. And, unwillingly, he admitted that the youngest Weasley also seemed to have a talent for it. While he hated to admit it he had a grudging respect for the girl. He, after all, knew better then anyone the pain of being a servant to the Dark Lord felt like. 

Yet, she handled herself with a certain grace. Behind her emerald eyes was a determination he rarely saw in his students anymore. Clearly, she hadn't let the experience impair her; she had found closure in a way he never had. Even while working for the Order he felt the guilt, the repercussions, of what he had done. Even now the nightmares plagued him.

But still…he wondered. Deep cuts may heal but they always left scars. Where were hers?

He hated to admit it, but she didn't annoy him nearly as much as she should have.

He sighed and turned his gaze to his prized student, Draco, who met his eyes a moment before returning to his potion. He smiled to himself. Draco, who reminded him so of Narcissa. He may have inherited his father's face, but somewhere, lurking just below the surface, he could sense the true Draco, _Narcissa's_ son, dying to get out.

Finally, the bell rang, pulling him out of his musings and the students filed out in a mad dash to reach their next class.

He walked into his office, closing the door behind him, and sunk heavily into a chair. Behind him the door opened and Draco entered, unabashed. He walked to the Professor's private store closet and took out several bottles before returning to the classroom. He followed the boy, more in amusement then annoyance.

"What are you doing?"

The blond handed him a ladle filled with a thick, purple potion.

"Drink." He commanded. In reply Snape frowned down at the vile substance. "You've been having one of you headaches again, now drink."

He obliged and was thankful he had for the relief that flooded his throbbing head was cool and immediate.

He nodded his thanks, opening a desk drawer and removing a jar fill with an amber liquid and a spoon. He raised the spoon, offering some to his pupil.

Draco wrinkled his nose, "What is it?"

His Professor smiled something between a true smile and a smirk. "Honey." He explained, "That stuff tastes horrible."

Draco couldn't help but laugh. Even after getting to know the Potions Master sitting in the same room and having a conversation with the mad still seemed ludicrous. Declining the sweet, sticky substance, he shook his head.

Another wave of pain caused Snape to wince.

"Does it hurt?" Draco asked, a question the professor had heard many times that summer. Yet somehow, it had changed, taken on a new meaning. There was something in his voice that had not been there before. Pity? Yes, but that was not new; there was more. Fear. For him? For even the boy himself?

The boy searched his eyes, and finding the silent approval and understanding there he sought, reached for the sleeve of the teacher's robe. Slowly, as if afraid of what he might find, he took the material in his hands and began rolling the cuff further up his arm, exposing the pale white of his sun deprived skin. There, dark and foreboding, was the appeared the Dark Mark.

He touched it softly, the pressure of his cold fingers there causing it to burn the older man's skin.

"Draco." He said softly, drawing the boy's attention though his eyes never left the mark. "You have to find a place to stay."

He looked up, startled. "Here,' He gestured around him, at the castle.

"Of course here you fool," The Professor snapped, though his words were not nearly as harsh as they could have been. "I mean for the holidays."

Draco looked confused. "Why not here?"

"Boy, can you not see the signs? It's coming! They want you to join them this Christmas; if you do you'll never be able to escape. You mustn't go home."

Draco's head whirled at the unexpected news. The initiation? So soon? He knew his father had been thinking about it, but hadn't they decided instead to wait until his summer apprenticeship with Snape was over. Of course, that had been the sole reason he had escaped the mark this summer.

His mother had convinced Lucius to allow him to spend the last half of summer of his seventh year and the summer afterwards with the Potions Master to learn the art of brewing. Wasn't the initiation supposed to be postponed until then?

"Why not here?" He asked again.

"Think, boy! If Lucius is desperate enough-"

"Or stupid enough."

"-to rush the initiation it means something big is coming. And I don't want you anywhere near the walls of this school when it happens."

"The school? You're worried about the school?"

"We don't know that, but Voldermort is no fool. He will hit where it hurt Dumbledore the hardest. And if he does, I don't want you anywhere near it."

The boy looked up, almost hopefully, "With you, then."

He shook his head. "I must stay here. Besides, my house will be the first place Lucius looks. He has never trusted me, your father, and if he gets on suspicion, even an inkling anything is wrong and…"

He didn't need to go on. Draco knew well the punishment a traitor would get. If they found out Snape was a spy…he didn't even want to think about the possibility.

He straightened the look of childish expectancy gone from his face, replaced with his usual mask of indifference. "Fine. I'm well taken care of."

Snape pause. "You…have a place?"

"More of a…plan. But don't worry."

"Draco…this isn't illegal is it? This plan of yours?"

He shrugged. "Probably." Then smirked his usual smirk, leaving the professor to wonder if he was kidding or not.

"I-"

A slight sound followed by a crash. Both men paused and looked toward the door, where Ginny Weasley laid on the ground.

"Holy muffins." She grumbled, getting to her feet, stopping immediately when she felt the two pairs of suspicious eyes upon her. "Err…Sorry, Professor, I-"

Malfoy was already upon her, snatching at her wrists. "What did you hear, Weasley?"

"Nothing."

"Then why were you eavesdropping outside the door, eh? Just out for a nice stroll along the dungeons? Tell me what you heard." He said forcibly, cornering her against one of the desks.

"I already told you I didn't hear anything." She said, almost exasperatedly, waving her hand in dismissal. Then, in a tone that suggested boredom, she added, "Could you let go now? This kind of hurts."

"I'm warning you Weasley. Tell me or so help you I'll-"

"Mister Malfoy," The professor cut in sharply, "Please release her. She heard nothing."

"But, Professor, she-"

"You forget what house your little friend is in, Mister Malfoy. Eavesdropping and lying are _below _a _Gryffindor_."

His grip loosened slightly. "Then what are you doing down here, Weaselette?"

"I left my wand and I've come back to get it. Now kindly release me so I may do so, Malfoy."

"You may get it and go, then." The professor said coolly.

"She's up to something." The other insisted.

"You're forgetting she's a Weasley. You're giving her way too much credit." The professor said sarcastically.

The girl rolled her eyes.

"Fine." Draco said, throwing down her arms and leaving.

"Draco…" He said trying to stop the blond.

"I'm taken care of." He said, not turning, as he walked through the door. The man's eyes fell back on the girl in front of him. "Well!" He snapped.

"Oh, yes, sorry." She rushed to her desk and pulled her wand from it. "I always do that." She said awkwardly and turned to leave.

"Weasley…?"

She met his eyes, and there he thought he save a deep understanding, though he could have just imagined it. She gave a slight, almost imperceptible, nod, an answer to his silent question. She'd heard everything.

She spoke softly, looking him in the eyes, her gaze showing none of the meekness her voice portrayed. "I heard nothing, Professor."

He nodded, "Let's keep it that way."

* * *

Armadillos! Inside joke....nevermind. Please, please, please review! I'll love you forever. I'll give you cookies. Cooookkkkkiiiiiiieeeeeessssssss! 


	7. Chapter Seven

Hey Guys! Heheh...I broke the chain! This chapter is long...well, longer. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer; I own nothing. Every thing here, except the plot belongs to J.K Rowling...need I say more?

* * *

Ginny sighed as she mumbled the password to the portrait. She was tired and nothing was going to feel better then a nice long nap in her own bed before she had to go down to the infirmary.

"Ginny's here! Ginny's here!" Ron sung happily while jumping up and down.

"Someone had a little to much Pepper-up Potion this morning." She said. "Would anyone care to tell me what's going on?"

"We would if we could." Hermione said, not looking up from her book. "He refused to tell us until you got here."

Ron turned bright pink with happiness and looked as if he was about to burst. When he finally spoke it was in an excited squeal.

"Weasley Family Christmas!"

"Really?"

He nodded as Ginny grabbed his hand and began jumping up and down in sync with him.

"Apparently we're all supposed to jump around like idiots." Harry said happily, as he, too, started dancing around the common room.

"Do you even know what they're talking about?" Hermione asked, glancing up for a second.

"Not a clue." He said as he commenced to do cartwheels.

"Well, someone please explain. Everyone's staring at you, by the way."

They stopped, for people were indeed staring at them.

Ginny looked unsure for a moment. "But…I thought Mum and Dad had to stay at Headquarters."

"Mum threw a fit and started crying and murmuring something about a midlife crisis."

She laughed picturing he mother throwing things around like a spoiled toddler.

"They finally agreed."

"Is anyone else still confused?" Harry asked. Hermione raised her hand.

"Harry, we're going to the Burrow for Christmas!" Exclaimed Ron. Harry and Hermione both brightened. "Everyone's gonna be there."

"All your brothers? Even Charlie? Percy?" Hermione asked, momentarily forgetting her book all together.

He nodded, not looking very happy about the latter. "And my Uncle Dave's family."

"But not Uncle Arnold?" Ginny asked, looking slightly crestfallen.

Ron shook his head. "He couldn't make it this time."

Scowling, Harry said, "Just what the world needs. More Weasleys," In a manner so much resembling Malfoy that the whole group burst out laughing, earning more wary stares from their housemates.

"What about guards?" Hermione asked, glancing worriedly in Harry's direction. "Harry's going to need protection."

"Hermione!"

"It's true, Harry. You may not realize it, but we prefer you much better alive and we intent on keeping you that way."

"Mum's got that all arranged too. The whole Order's invited, 'cept Dung of course."

Harry seemed to get over his annoyance when he heard this. "Even Snuffles?"

Ron nodded.

Ginny, with a few words of parting, went upstairs for her nap feeling happier then she had in a long while.

* * *

So far, it had been a slow night. Only one patient had come in complaining of a simple headache. He had been given a concoction and sent on his way. 

She was trying her best not to look at Malfoy, who was seated on a hospital cot so that he might glare more comfortably at her.

Ginny looked around for something else to do. She needed to keep her hands busy. She had already organized the supply cabinet, put new linens on the cots, and brewed enough Clear-All acne removing cream to keep the infirmary stocked for a week. Defeated, she finally sat down too.

As soon as she did Malfoy stood and began pacing.

"This is pointless, there's nothing to do."

"Then leave. I don't care if you fail this class."

"Or is that just what you want me to think?"

"Malfoy, you are so paranoid."

"I may be paranoid, but that doesn't mead you're not out to get me."

"Get a life."

"Get some manners."

"I don't have to. I'm only talking to you, after all."

"Better yet, get a book of better comebacks. That was just pathetic."

She stuck out her tongue.

"Oh that's mature."

She didn't reply. Instead she pulled out her Herbology book and began on her homework.

Draco snorted impatiently. "I didn't think it was possible, but you've just become slightly more boring.

"It's not my fault you didn't think to bring your homework with you."

"Do forgive me my thoughtlessness."

She returned to her work, completely ignoring him. Resigned, he sat back down, reclined his head and closed his eyes.

Try as she might Ginny just wasn't able to muster the same complete loathing of him as she had before.

_This is what you get! _She scolded herself. _This is why you don't eavesdrop; you hear things you don't want to here._

She glanced cautiously over her book to look at the blond. He looked peaceful. It was almost impossible to imagine that this angel was the same ferret that had tormented her the past six years. His face showed no malice, no sarcasm, and it was unnerving.

"Yes Weasley," He said, not opening his eyes, "I know I'm hot, but could you please stop staring at me? It's irritating."

She blushed slightly, mostly because it was true. He had grown into his features over the past few years. For a long time she had always thought he had looked slightly…feminine, with his angular features. But his face had rounded out, giving his countenance much more depth. His features were still sharp, but now there was nothing feminine about them. Or any other part of him for that matter.

"You are the most-"

"Debonair, handsome, charming man you've ever laid your eyes on."

"I was going to say the most arrogant, self-centered, conceited, prat I've ever had the misfortune of meeting."

"Weasley, you're a very negative person, you know. You should probably see someone about that."

"Just remind me not to go to whoever it is your seeing, because he's obviously not doing his job."

"No, I'm just a hopeless case." He said, proudly smiling.

"Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"See, there you go again… always with the insults. No wonder you can't keep a man."

She stiffened, "My personal life is no concern of yours."

"That's why it surprised me when Blaise told me he went to you on advice on relationships." He continued as though she hadn't spoke. "I mean, I knew he was desperate, but to go to the girl who couldn't ever get a second glance from Harry Scarhead Potter? He must be worst off then I thought."

"Shut up. Shut up, you great, unbearable twit. You-"

"Hit a sore spot, have I? Still pining over Potter, Weasel?" He smirked. "Don't think I don't see the way you are around him."

"Harry is like a brother to me and I won't have you speaking poorly of him." Her small fists were clenched, knuckles white. All he had to do was push her a little more…

"Second choice. You were always his second choice, first there was Cho and then, only when he was desperate did he notice poor, little Ginny Weasley."

There it was. The same familiar spark of rage in her eyes. How he loved seeing her anger-and knowing he'd caused it. He gave her a smug smirk, waiting for her reaction.

What she did shocked him. She smiled. "I don't like Harry. Do you know why? Because he's not the right one for me. But eventually the right guy will come along, and we'll get married and have lots of kids and live in a house in the country. You, on the other hand, will always be sad and alone."

"Did you know that your face turns this really odd reddish color when you're angry?" He asked, seemingly oblivious to her lecture.

"Arrgg! You are the most insufferable git in the entire world!"

"Well, now that's not really fair. Have you met everyone in the world?"

"See! Thank you for just proving my point."

"Trust me, I didn't do it on purpose."

She shook her head.

"This is pointless. I'm leaving."

"Like, I said, feel free to fail this class."

"Look at the time, moron. It's nine; we're free to go." He said, and left without another word.

She sighed. He made it hard for people to pity him.

She gathered her stuff and walked slowly back to the tower. Lost in thought, she didn't even notice the other person in the corridor until she had knocked into him.

"Holy muffins!" On the floor surrounding her laid all her books and parchment. "Darn."

"Oy! Ginny, sorry about that. Are you okay?" Asked Seamus, peering down at her, concern evident in his face.

"Yeah, Seamus, I'm fine. What about you?"

"I'm not the one of the floor."

"This is true." She said, smiling as he helped her sit up.

"Here let me help you with this," He began gathering her schoolwork, "What are you doing out so late anyway?"

"I was at the infirmary. Just my luck that Malfoy decided to show up tonight too."

"Harsh, but it couldn't have gone too badly, considering you're still in one piece."

"Well, it certainly didn't go well either."

"It's Malfoy. What do you expect?"

She laughed. "So, what has you out?"

He held up what remained of a muffin and a glass of butterbeer. "I just made a stop at the kitchen."

She laughed again. "Aren't you lucky no one in Gryffindor can keep a secret?"

He nodded. "I-ahh- I'm actually glad to see you. I have something to ask you." He said, blushing to the tips of his blond hair. "Well, you know a Hogsmeade weekend is coming up and I was wondering if-ifyouwannagowithme."

"Ahh…sorry, I didn't quite catch that."

He turned an even deeper shade of red and took a deep breath. "I just wanted to know if you would like to go. You know-with me."

Ginny imagined her face must be at least as red as his was. " I-oh-I…um that's really sweet of you Seamus, but if Ron put you up to this-"

"Are you kidding? Ron doesn't know anything about this. If he did I doubt _I'd _be in one piece."

Her face brightened. "Really? Then…well sure, I'd love to go."

"Great. I guess I'll see you there then. Well…bye."

"Seamus, we're going the same way."

He laughed nervously. "Oh yeah, that's right."

* * *

Hey! Thanks to all my reveiwers from the last chapter! I love you all. I ate a cookie in honor of all of you. Like always, please review with comments or helpful critisim (keyword here 'helpful')! Love'ya! 


	8. Chapter Eight

Hehehe...fun with the necklace...hehehehe. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing you reconize from the Harry Potter books. No money is being made from this.

* * *

Flying always helped clear her mind. Practice wasn't for another half an hour and until then the pitch was all her's. She flew upwards, loving the way the wind felt in her unbound hair. She gained speed, and then very suddenly she turned downward in a mad dive toward the ground.

"Weasley sees the Snitch." She whispered trying to do her best Lee Jordan impression and keep her head tucked at the same time. "She's gaining speed. Five feet from the Snitch and only twenty feet from the ground. Go Ginny, go!"

She extended her arm to grab the imaginary ball. She was only ten feet from the ground now, still rapidly gaining speed. Closer, she propelled herself forward in a final burst of speed bringing her only a foot from the ground. At the last second, she pulled her broom skyward, and began her slow ascent, holding the invisible ball in her hands and waving it in triumph.

"And Weasley's done it! She's caught the Snitch!" From below her she heard clapping. The noise almost knocked her off her broom in surprise. She caught the handle, sliding into an uncomfortable sideways poison in the seat of her broom. Beneath her she heard a few of her fans snicker. She looked down to see the whole Slytherin team loudly clapping and cheering in a show of mock support. At the front of the pack was Malfoy.

"Thanks for that little performance, Weasley. I really enjoyed it. However, I was a little disappointed by the ending. I was _so_ hopping you'd fall. Would've been much more realistic, but I guess you were just saving that for the game."

"Sod off, Malfoy." His team stopped their mock cheering.

"Love to, Weasley, but we have practice."

"Gryffindor booked the field for the day, so bugger off."

"Well, they're not here, now are they?"

"They'll be here soon."

"Well, you're welcome to stay around and wait for them. But we're using the pitch until they show up."

"Fine. They'll be here any minute."

"Whatever."

Half an hour later found Ginny sitting in the stands. The Slytherins had been practicing for nearly forty minutes (she allowed a self-satisfied smirk to grace her face realizing that apart from a few players the team stunk). Where the heck was her team? Fuming she stood up, grabbed her broom and flew out towards the pitch. A few members of the team gave her odd looks. The majority of them, however, ignored her completely and continued as if they didn't see her.

They accomplished this so well that for a minute Draco had to wonder if they really _didn't_ see her.

_With that hair, not likely._ He thought, allowing the shadow of a smirk to light his face.

"Malfoy!" She called out. He was perched on his broom observing, nearly fifty feet above the rest of the team, his keen eyes darting around looking for the Snitch. Ginny was reminded of a huge bird of prey, hunting its ignorant victim.

For a second she was sure he saw her, but he was still nearly thirty feet above her and she couldn't be sure. If he did, he chose to ignore her, flying even higher.

"Malfoy!"

He looked down at her briefly, the picture of irritation. "Are you still here, Weasley?" He taunted. "I'd thought you'd have given up by now."

"Malfoy, what do you know that I don't?"

"Well, a lot of things. Would you like a list?" She glared. "How about the fact that you must be failing all your classes."

"And how did you ever come to that completely misguided conclusion?"

"Simply the fact that you must never go to the library. Because if you did, you would have seen the notice that's been up for two days that Gryffindor practice has been canceled."

She felt her face burning in a mixture of humiliation and anger. "And you didn't feel the need to tell me that forty minutes ago?"

"No. It was much more fun to watch you sit there like a well-trained puppy for an hour. Maybe if you're good Potter will give you a treat later." He said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

"Bugger off." She snapped and flew hastily back down to the ground. One thing was for sure; when she got back to the tower Ron and Harry were going to have some explaining to do.

* * *

"Harry just back away slowly. At least one of us deserves to live and considering you're the one who has to save the world, I think it should be you." 

"Ron, I'm not leaving you." Harry replied, rolling his eyes.

"Just run for goodness sakes! I'll hold her off!"

"Ron. It is only Ginny."

"But you don't know her like I know her. You see the normal, sweet, innocent Ginny. I know her for what she is; evil, demented, psychopath Ginny."

The person in question smiled sweetly, "You have no idea how much that means coming from you, brother dearest." She said, "It almost makes me regret that I'm about to kill you."

Hermione entered the room looking startled. "Err… as Head Girl I really don't think I'm allowed to let you kill anyone…" She said, observing the two panicked boys and Ginny.

"Can't you let it slid just this once?" Ginny pleaded.

"What did they do?"

"Practice was canceled and-"

"You didn't forget, did you?" Hermione scolded. The boys looked down. "I told to tell her!"

"We forgot!"

"And you hung me out to dry! Malfoy was there. _Malfoy _for goodness sakes! I sat there like an idiot for almost an hour before he finally said something. I embarrassed myself in front of the whole Slytherin team!"

"You shouldn't care so much of what other's think." Ron informed her smartly. Her glare intensified. "But…I..errr..now's not the best time for that, is it?"

Harry nodded sadly. "Sorry, Gin. We didn't mean to forget you."

She didn't move.

Ron shuffled his feet, "Sorry Ginny."

"Forgive us?" Harry asked, jutting out his lower lip in the most pathetic puppy dog face she had ever seen.

"Not a chance."

Harry grinned. "You can't stay mad at me forever."

"Wanna bet."

"Sure." He said, his eyes glinting mischievously. He held his hands up threateningly.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh yes, I really would." With that he lunged towards her. She tried to dodge but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. Then laughing insanely, he began tickling her stomach.

"Stop that I'm-I'm…" She couldn't restrain her laughter.

"What was that? Couldn't quite hear you."

"No..fair…" Ginny jumped over the couch away from him. "No fair."

Harry drew closer to her while Ron cut her off from the rear. His grin, a mirror image of Harry's, widened. "What do you think, Potter? I hold her and you tickle?"

"I don't think so." She said, brandishing a pillow. Laughing wickedly she dove at Harry, swinging the pillow wildly.

From behind her she heard Ron groan. Hermione dissolved into a fit of giggles as Ginny raised her eyebrow to the older girl who had also grabbed a pillow.

Indignant, Ron asked, "What was that for?"

"For forgetting me." Ginny informed him. "We girls have to stick together, right Herms?"

She nodded as she continued to whack Ron across the head with her pillow. Harry, taking advantage of Ginny's distraction, was once again beside her, tickling.

"Potterlaughing if you don'tlaughing stoplaughing…"

"What was that? Don't stop? Okay then."

"Stop!"

"Truce?"

"Never!"

"Truce?"

"I'd rather die!"

"Considering how red your face is I'd say you're not far from it."

"That's not funny."

"Then why are you laughing?" He said, smiling, but never stopping.

"Because you're tickling me you freaking moron!"

"Ahem… Am I…interrupting something?"

The four teens stopped immediately and turned, red-faced, to see a very disgruntled Professor McGonagall.

"Er.. no, Professor." Hermione said, face burning, while trying to smooth her hair, "Nothing at all."

* * *

His plan had been to corner her in the hall so they could talk, but she seemed to always be surrounded, mostly by males. Right now was no exception. Her normal crowd-Luna, Colin, and Neville- was there along with the unexpected addition of Finnigan. 

She was only about five feet away from Draco; just enough to make it look like an accident. Besides, even if it did look like he had done it on purpose people would just assume it was due to the old Weasley-Malfoy animosity.

He quickened his pace slightly, catching up with her almost immediately. She was in the center of the group, Colin's arm slung lazily around her shoulders. He noticed Seamus, on the Weaselette's other side, looked slightly perturbed. He kept glancing irritably in Colin's direction. Draco cut right into the middle of their group, purposely knocking the girls shoulder as he walked by. Caught off guard, she fell.

He didn't turn. Didn't appear to have even noticed that he had hit her.

"Watch were I'm going, Weasley."

"Hey, Ferret Boy, if you're looking for a fight, you're barking up the wrong tree," Seamus said.

"Oh now I understand. You've got yourself a girlfriend, have you? You must be getting pretty desperate."

"Back off, Malfoy or so help me…"

"Oh, boy. I'm scared now."

"Malfoy-"

"Seamus." Ginny said soothingly. Colin had helped her up from her place on the floor. She now had placed a placating, if not restraining, hand on his shoulder. Her voice was silky smooth, but behind its velvety front he heard a slight edge. She was issuing a command and she expected it to be followed. "Don't." She said softly, and began to lead him away.

Draco sneered. "That's it Finnigan. Run away, I'm sure that'll impress her."

Seamus started to turn, but Ginny's restraining hand kept pushing him forward.

"I hate homework, a horrid affair really. You see all the teachers are plotting our demise. I can see it now, Death by Overexertion."

"Really Ginny. You're so dramatic." Hermione said, her nose fixed in a rather large book.

"No really, it's true. Why do you think they invented the O.W.L.S.? They want us all to die. Hey-what's this?"

A white envelope drifted noiselessly to the floor. Curious, she picked it up. She gasped. The seal was of green wax, a great M entangled with two serpents. Malfoy.

"Hmmm…?" Hermione asked, still engrossed in her book.

"Oh-ah- nothing."

She glanced quickly at her friend to reassure herself that she was too enthralled with her book to notice Ginny's action. Assured, she hastily broke the seal. Malfoy's small, neat script sprawled across the page in green ink.

_Meet me at C'est La Vie this Hogsmeade weekend. We need to discuss our little secret._

Involuntarily, her hand went to her neck where the necklace hung. Malfoy expected her to really meet him? Well, she'd show him; she simply wouldn't show up.

"Ginny, what's wrong. You look white."

"Nothing Hermione."

* * *

_A book. Small, black, and seemingly meaningless. So Weasley dreamed about books? He expected this from Granger, but Weasley? He didn't know that she was THAT boring. _

_Suddenly the girl emerged, seemingly out of nothing. Dressed in a white dressing gown she appeared even paler then normal, her freckles glaringly obvious against her snowy complexion. Her gaze darted from him to the book, her eyes glazed with fear. _

_The girl backed away slowly then, her pace quickening, she turned and ran. So Weasley was afraid of books? No, that didn't make sense either. He sighed; he hadn't been expecting this to be work. He ran after her._

_A wall._

_She couldn't get past, couldn't escape. She appeared to him as caged animal. Her eyes burned with the need to escape, to flee to freedom. The emotion or perhaps maybe it was simply the spell that bonded them, was so intense that he himself could feel the panic burning in his heart. _

_Her need to survive pushed her into a final desperate attempt. She beat the wall with her fists, kicking desperately. _

_Her inner reservoirs of strength exhausted, the spell pasted. She sunk to the ground against the wall, pulling her knees close to her body. Her body shaking in bouts of uncontrollable and unconcealed silent sobs._

_He was struck. What in the Weasley's sheltered life could possibly bring her such unbridled fear? What could possibly cause her such terror?_

_Before his eyes she seemed to grow younger. Her hair brightened to the bright apple-red of her past. Her freckles grew in number, if it was even possible. When she looked up at him through tear-filled eyes, they, too, had changed manifesting before him as the eyes of a very young girl. Most disturbing of all was the vacancy they had acquired, as if she was looking through him. Perhaps, he realized, she was. Perhaps she **couldn't **see him. After all, he'd never tried this before and the details of the enchantment eluded him. Startled at the thought, he looked behind him to see what the girl was looking at. Nothing. Perhaps, then, he was wrong again._

"_He's here." She whispered. Her eyes suddenly fixed upon him. He saw something there he had never seen in waking: fear. Her eyes were haunted. "He's always here."_

"_Hello Ginny, love. I told you I'd return." An unknown voice hissed. The effect was like being struck by lightning, the pain that streamed through his body was hot and intense. The girl screeched in pain and fear accompanied by another voice. It wasn't until the scene had faded that he realized it was his own._

When he awoke the scream sounded strange and foreign to his ears. He saw a flash of red and gold. His whole body felt warm, much warmer then could normally be achieved in the drafty dungeons.

"Draco?" It was Blaise's voice, distant and groggy. Oddly enough he couldn't see Blaise. The dorm room looked strange and new to his eyes, even ill-adjusted to the light as they were. He blinked. Suddenly he felt very cold.

He was not in his bed, but in the wooden chair. Just as he had been when he had gone to sleep. He looked around. Nothing red, nothing gold, only the same, familiar green and silver. Shaking his head, he decided he must have been seeing things, as people were keen to do in the first moments of waking.

"Draco?" He saw Blaise now. He was out of bed and walking towards him. He must have woken him up. "Draco, are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine."

"Another nightmare?"

He let an ironic smirk touch his face; even when he escaped his dreams he couldn't escape the nightmares.

"Something like that."

* * *

Forgive me if there are spelling errors...I reread it like ten times but I'm so tired that I'm sure I missed some. Sorry! Now, go down to that pretty little button that says 'submit reveiw' and click it! 


	9. Chapter Nine

Hey guys! I'm back with chapter nine! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Harry Potter's world.

P.S.- J.K. Rowling just gave birth! Woohoo! Congrats!

* * *

"Ginny! What's this?" The girl rolled her eyes. The worst part of skipping a grade was that she now had to share a dorm room with Lavender and Parvati. No one could keep a secret very secret for long.

"What Lavender?" She asked, trying to keep the boredom and exasperation out of her voice.

"This!" She squealed a very girlish screech. She was waving a bit of parchment in the air. "It was on the floor. Parvati said it wasn't hers and it's certainly not mine and Hermione- well we know it's not hers."

"Give me that." For a minute she stared, transfixed in horror. It was Malfoy's note. How could she have been so careless?

"Ohhh!" She squealed again. "It _is _yours! Spill! Who wrote it? How long have you been seeing someone?"

She shrugged. "It's not mine."

"Yes it is. I saw that look."

"What look? There was no look."

"I don't know why you're so embarrassed. I think it's terribly romantic."

"Listen, it's not mine."

"So you _are _embarrassed. Is poor little tom-boy Ginny afraid to admit she has a boyfriend?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Ohh…is he someone really awful. Like…Neville!?! Is it Neville?"

"Oh, do shut up. If you really must know it was my…" She paused.

_Think quickly, Ginny! Think!_

"My brother. My brother sent me that."

"Your brother wants to date you?"

Ginny sighed. Lavender was a twit. No two ways about it. "No, of course not. He just wanted to- you know…talk."

"He wanted to _talk _at C'est La Vie? Do you know what this place is? It's the nicest restaurant within fifty miles of the castle. The Weird Sister's were even spotted there!"

"Well...he didn't really want me to come. It was more of a spur of the moment kind of thing. His girlfriend…she, uh, got sick and had to cancel. So he invited me along, you know, waste not."

"Hmmm…Which brother?"

"Bill." She blurted the first name she could think of.

"Is he the one with the dragons?"

"No, he's the one at Gringotts."

"Oh, the dreamy one with the long hair?"

She wasn't accustomed to her brothers being described as dreamy. "I…er…I guess."

Lavender raised an eyebrow and examined the girl. "Ginny Weasley, I think you're lying to me."

So maybe she wasn't as much of a twit as Ginny had thought.

"Lavender, you really must cut back on the romance novels. Not everything has a wonderfully romantic reason behind."

"Well, if he doesn't go to Hogwarts how did he know when you're Hogsmeade weekend would be? And what exactly is this little secret of yours?"

"He-er-didn't know. He was just, you know, hoping. And he's…I can't tell you it's a secret." She said, beaming with happiness as she had thought up the perfect excuse. Secrets drove Lavender crazy.

"Ohh, please tell me, Ginny."

"Well…promise you won't tell anyone?" She said, faking indecision

"Of course!" She whispered, her eyes taking on a glint of mischief.

"Well…my brother's going to propose to his girlfriend and I'm helping him plan out the whole event. It's going to be a huge affair with flowers and fancy food, and gowns and pie."

"Pie?"

"Yes. Pie."

"Why pie?"

"Bill and his girlfriend like pie, okay? Who am I to question their strange affection baked goods."

_Pie, Ginny? That's got to be about the lamest excuse you've come up with all week! Pie indeed._

"Oh, how romantic! And he's taking you to C'est La Vie to see if it would be a good restaurant to propose in?"

"Ah…sure."

"Oh, can I help plan it, please Ginny!?"

"Yes, of course. In fact, I need you're opinion. I won't be able to go to La Vie this weekend. Have you been there? Is it a good location?"

"Oh yes!"

"Well, can you er…write down any suggestions you can think of and I'll give them to Bill, okay?"

The other girl didn't reply. She was already too busy deciding whether Bill should give his nonexistent girlfriend roses or lilies.

Ginny smiled. Lavender had wanted romance and she had gotten it. The fact that it was made up was a minor detail that Ginny was willing to overlook.

"See you later, I have to get to the infirmary."

"Hmm…horses would be nice. I bet we could get horses. Oh and roses, lots and lots of roses…"

* * *

Professor Snape was in a foul mood. Stubborn boy. Draco adamantly refused to disclose where he intended on staying over Christmas. The boy became flustered each time they spoke of it, but insisted that he was already taken care of. Plans, he said, have already been made. Plans indeed. He sighed. Draco was certainly Lucius's son. He sat, quill in hand, in his private office. Dipping the long feather in ink he slowly-ever so slowly- began to write. He placed each word carefully on the parchment, making a silent prayer with each letter that it wouldn't arouse suspicion. Writing the note took much longer then it should have.

_Dear Narcissa,_

_I hope this finds you in good heath, dearest._ _Draco sends his warmest regards. Here at the castle it is quite cool (unseasonable for this month). However, Draco seems taken with it. He enjoys all his classes, save his Care of Magical Creatures, horrid as it is. He's head of all his classes, next to Granger. He seems to meet every challenge thrown at him, which very much reminds me of someone else I know. Like his parents he's at the top of the Slytherin hierarchy. His first official Hogsmeade weekend is coming, I expect he'll ask Pansy Parkinson tomorrow to go with him. I don't envy him the night he'll have to spend with her. I must go._

_Fondest Regards,_

_Severus Snape_

The owl chirped its impatience as Severus attacked the letter to its leg.

"Godspeed." He muttered as the thing flew gracefully out of the window. "Goodness knows we'll need it soon enough."

* * *

Another slow night at the infirmary. He smirked. She was trying very hard to appear interested in her homework. She hadn't even looked up at him when he had walked in, something she had never before done, even in the height of their arguments.

She was- or pretending to be, though he couldn't quite tell which- completely engrossed in an enormous volume.

For a minute he stared. She didn't seem to notice, indicating she was genuinely enthralled with whatever it was she was reading.

He had taken her suggestion and brought homework, but in the stuffy room it was hard to concentrate and his attention kept drifting back to the night before.

Over his own book, he sneaked a look at her. Throughout the day he had been watching her carefully. She showed no indication of the exhaustion she must have been feeling. She had been as vivacious and animated as ever. However now, closer, he could see dim shadows under her eyes.

Shaking his head, he returned to his reading. When he looked back up at her, her book had dropped slightly, revealing half of her face. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was shallow and even; she was very obviously asleep. So she _had_ felt the effects of the sleepless night after all.

"Weasley."

She didn't stir. Nor did she look at all comfortable in the hard hospital chair.

"Weasley."

She turned in her sleep, dropping the book father down into her lap.

He hesitated a moment before reaching into his pocket and extracting a small, leather pouch. He reached inside it, and felt for the cool stone. He left it in his hand a moment, it was reassuring. After a moment he pulled the stone out of the small bag. A ring.

"Entrar Rêve."

_He closed his eyes and suddenly the crisp, white, atmosphere of the hospital burst into a kaleidoscope of hazy colors and unfocused shapes. He blinked rapidly (though he realized that he was now asleep and wasn't capable of blinking) and slowly the shapes focused._

_The Weasley girl was there and with her was a boy, no older then himself. They turned to face him seemingly oblivious to Draco's presence._

_For a moment he was almost overcome with rage to see who the boys was. Harry. _

_Then, almost immediately he realized he was wrong. While the boy shared Potter's dark hair and pale complexion, he didn't possess the impossibly green eyes. And though he was approximately the same height and build as the Boy Wonder, his face lacked the telltale scar. _

"_I'm leaving now, Tom." Weasley said, looking slightly flustered. She walked away._

"_No, Virginia, stay." He grabbed her wrist, keeping her from leaving him, and turned her towards him. He studied her for a moment, and wrapped his arms around her in what appeared to be an almost protective embrace. "You've changed since I last saw you. You're not at all how I remember."_

"_That's what happens in four years, Tom."_

"_Not to me." She didn't reply. "How old are you?"_

"_Fifteen. Almost sixteen." She cringed even as she spoke, as if some unknown force was pulling the answers from her against her will._

"_We're almost the same age then. And what year?" He spoke like a schoolmaster, asking arithmetic of a student. Each time she delayed her answers he, ever the practical teacher, shot a stern look at his student, expecting her to know the answers he required of her. _

"_Seventh."_

"_And only fifteen?"_

"_Dumbledore-I- I skipped a grade. Please, Tom, I have to go. I shouldn't be speaking with you."_

_He continued on as if he hadn't heard the last part. "Skipped a grade, did you? That's my little bird for you. I always knew you were clever."_

"_But clearly not clever enough. I feel for your trick, didn't I?" She was just as he remembered. Even as a girl she had been strong. Had even tried to resist him with her little trick of throwing the book away. "Hush, my Little Bird, don't speak of such things."_

"_You know me. I speak only the truth." _

_He gave her a disapproving look. "Let's not fight, love. That's not what I came back for."_

_She was getting more agitated by the moment. The nervousness that had been apparent in her answers was quickly turning into anger. Fueled by fear._

"_Then what did you come back for, Tom?" She pulled away from him. "To kill Harry? Or me? Is that it, Tom? You never were one to leave a job unfinished, were you?"_

_She backed away even more. Countering her every movement-her step back for his forward- he seemed to only grow closer to her. _

_He smiled indulgently. Yes, his student had answered wrong, had lost faith in him, but she could easily be bought back with praise. He could see the pain in her eyes. She was aching to have what they had once had. For him to be the kind, understanding, friend who listened to all her troubles, not the murdering monster. She was longing for his reassurance that it had all been some fantastically horrible nightmare._

"_No, Virginia, no. I would never hurt you. You are far too dear to me."_

"_I don't believe you, Tom." She raised her chin defiantly. Maybe he had underestimated his little bird. Maybe she was even stronger then he thought. "Why did you come back?"_

_He smiled, and she had stopped her retreat. He wrapped her in his arms once more, "Did you ever think that I just missed you?" He whispered in her ears. He was so close…so real. He smirked as he felt the chills going down her back. He kissed her cheek and her whole body went stiff. "That maybe I need you?" _

_His lips were now perilously close to her face. She could feel his breathing. Maybe as a child this would have made her knees go weak, but now she was only capable of one emotion. Fear. Raw, burning fear._

_

* * *

_

Several things. A) I hated the first part of the chapter with Lavender. I've always just seen her as such an annoying ditz. And the pie? Well anyother one of my many inside jokes (most of which are with myself). BTW Armidillos!

B) It seemed a little too soon to put in another dream sequence, but... my muse wouldn't let me rest until I wrote this scene. So, sorry if you didn't like it so soon.

**C) Hehehe...I have a challenge.** I know Pro. Snape's letter sounded a bit...off. Well,I promise there is a reason for that. It's up to you to figure it out! Cookies to who ever does!

Now...I LOVE ALL MY REVIEWERS! YOU ARE SO SWEET, I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'D DO WITHOUT YOU! YOU'RE AMAZING!

Now, please, please, please review. I won't beg. Okay...soI will. PLEASE!?!


	10. Chapter Ten

Hey! For all of you who don't read the author's note (yes, I know. I'm sooooo boring) I put a challenge at the very end which most of you were too lazy to read. So here it is again. In the letter from Snape from last chapter there's a special messiage, to be revealed in the next chapter. I am NOT a matermind code writer, so it's short and really simple to find. Anyone who gets it right gets a virtual cookie...ummm chocalate chip._

* * *

_

_His lips were now perilously close to her face. She could feel his breathing. Maybe as a child this would have made her knees go weak, but now she was only capable of one emotion. Fear. Raw, burning fear._

"_Tom…" _

"_Yes, Ginny dear?"_

"_Leave me alone. I mean it." She had lost the frailness that had been evident only a moment before. In its place was a quiet confidence._

_Much to her offense, Tom merely laughed. "You're never alone."_

"Miss Weasley? Mr. Malfoy?"

She groggily shook her head. "Hmmm?"

The nurse put her hands on her hips and tried to give them a look of disappointment. Failing miserable she gave up the guise and smiled. "Is it really so boring here? Both of my pupils asleep!"

Ginny looked over at Draco, who certainly didn't look like he had just woken up.

Madame Pomfrey laughed. "You two may go now, I don't think anyone else will come in tonight."

"Thank you. Goodnight, Madame Pomfrey." Ginny said, distracted.

"Goodnight, dears. And good luck."

"Excuse me?"

"With the Quidditch game, of course. The first match is tomorrow."

How could she have forgotten?

"Thank you."

"You know the Quidditch schedule?" Draco asked.

"Why of course. Matches are always the busiest nights. Horrid sport if you ask me. Broken necks, fractures, sprained wrist…"

"Thanks for that lovely bit of encouragement."

She glared at him for a moment, as if decided whether he was mocking her or genuinely grateful. His face was completely emotionless. In the end she just smiled and said goodnight.

* * *

Between the sound of the pouring rain, Harry's "encouragement" and the weight of her Quidditch uniform, it was hard to be nervous. She had always loved the rain. It had something of a romantic value to it. Normally Ginny would have reveled at the chance to be outside in a storm such as this, but for playing Quidditch, however, it was not the best conditions. Not at all. 

As if insulted by her thoughts a large bolt of lightning snaked across the sky. She shrugged off the rain and began to stretch. Harry's pep talk ("Bet that Slytherin scum or I'll have you doing drills until you can't feel your feet!") had finally ended and Ron appeared beside her.

"You'll be fine, Ron."

"Easy for you to say."

"Relax."

"Ginny, pull that hair back will'ya."

Her normally bouncing curls had soaked straight through and were reduced to a dripping mess. Still, she stubbornly refused to pull it back. She hadn't put her hair in a ponytail in nearly three years. There was no reason to start now.

"Hermione's in the stands."

"Great. I think I'm going to be sick."

"Ginny, mount up." It was Harry this time. She nodded.

Lee's voice boomed through the stadium, announcing Slytherin. After a few moments of cheers (or booing from the rest of the school) Jordan's voice called out Gryffindor and they all flew out to meet the crowd.

Unlike Ron, she had never had a problem with crowds. On the contrary, she enjoyed the cheering. Beside her Ron was gagging.

She briefly heard Lee's voice call out her name before all noise was drowned out. There was only the quaffle and the goal now. Nothing else mattered.

Below her Madam Hooch blew the whistle and the game begun. The rain was pouring down so hard now she could hardly see her teammates. She waited where she was. A flash of red to her left. Thank goodness for the bright uniforms they had to wear. Jennet, a fellow chaser, tossed the quaffle to her. She fumbled it slightly before securing it in her grasp and racing towards the Slytherin goal. A feint to the right, then to the left, then back to the right and into the goal. She smiled, but didn't pause to celebrate. The game was still going on, after all.

The crowd below her was still cheering dutifully. Could they even see from way down there? Doubtful.

Another angry clash of thunder interrupted her thoughts. Clinging slightly more tightly to her broom, she followed the quaffle down the pitch. The Slytherin chaser, decked in green, thrust the ball towards the goal, only to be stopped by Ron. Silently, Ginny cheered her older brother.

As if hearing her mental applause he made eye contact and threw the ball to her. It was wet and slippery, but she caught it, cradling it against her chest so that she wouldn't blunder. She passed to Jennet, who, with great agility threw the ball right pass the Slytherin keeper.

Marcus Flint was in possession at the moment, flying recklessly fast toward the goals. He pitched the ball in a great heave through the center goal. Ron visibly winced, as if expecting to hear a chorus or two of "Weasley is Our King". When no such thing happened, he smiled brightly and passed to Jennet.

Just then the booming voice of Jordan came on over the amplifier; "It's Potter and Malfoy, neck and neck. I think Harry's spotted the snitch. Go, Harry, go. Sorry professor." He added, then in a very unenthusiastic voice he added, "Oh, ah, and yeah, go Malfoy.

"They're close now. Only twenty feet above the ground." The whole world seemed to pause to watch the two boys fly in a full nosedive towards the ground. Closer now, only about eight feet above the ground. Harry was reaching. They were going to win; Ginny could feel it. The whistle blew, confirming her thoughts, just as Harry caught the Snitch, and as Malfoy hit the ground.

For a moment it seemed as if no one had noticed. The Gryffindors let out a deafening cry of victory while the Slytherins seemed to all collectively growl. It wasn't until a moment later and the blond boy still hadn't moved that the silence fell.

"Oh crap." Following her first instinct, not hesitating to think she had flown down to the ground and was at his side.

"Malfoy, are you okay?"

He groaned.

"You-" She pointed to Harry who was looking rather breathless and pale. "Go get my wand."

He stared, wide eyed, for a moment.

"Now!" She commanded. He ran to retrieve it.

Pointing it at Malfoy's crumpled body she whispered, "Mobilius."

His body rose off the ground.

"Malfoy, are you okay?" She asked again.

"I fell off my bloody broom. What do you think?" He said, somehow managing a sneer through his pain.

"I think I should just leave you here." She would have too if it weren't for that pesky little voice in the back of her head telling her that it would be wrong. Darn her conscience.

When she arrived in the infirmary, Draco's body in tow, Madame Pomfrey was in a righteous fury, denouncing the evils of Quidditch.

"In a storm no less! Mrs. Weasley, set him down here, and for goodness sakes you're dripping all over the floor!"

"Sorry."

"Aride." The nurse ordered and immediately Ginny found that her uniform was warm and dry.

"Thank you."

"Go strip off that ridiculous equipment and come help me."

She nodded and headed of towards the back room to remove all her Quidditch gear. As she walked away she heard. "Now this might be hurt a little…"

* * *

The words were strange and unfamiliar, but he found himself not caring at all, it was the voice that intrigued him. The deep alto voice was smooth and melodic, not at all like the high and displeasing voices he was accustomed to. 

He slowly opened his eyes. For Draco Malfoy, it seemed like lately the world was full of swirling, clouds of color. So as he awoke, it was only natural that there was one over him.

The great red blur at his bedside slowly began defining its form until he could clearly see the outline of a female setting beside his cot. Her body was leaned over his, and he could smell a faint trace of vanilla. Her hand was holding a cool cloth to his head, fighting off fever.

"Am I in Heaven?" He asked, slightly dazed. But that didn't make any sense, because Heaven was not a place he expected to go. After a moment his eyes focused enough for him to see who his attendant was. "Oh no. It's Weasley. I've died and gone the other way."

She jumped slightly, clearly startled. "You're awake."

"Obviously. How long was I asleep?"

"You fainted after she gave you the medication."

"Malfoys do not faint."

"So you just up and decided that it would be a good time to be unconscious?"

"Exactly."

"Here." She pulled from the small table beside her a tray of food.

He ignored it; there was no way that he was going to eat hospital food. He ached all over and his head was pounding. His first impulse was to roll over and go back to sleep. His stomach, however, made its opposition clear with a loud, undignified rumble.

He thought he saw a small smile on the girl's face as he accepted the food.

"Don't you have any painkillers or something?"

She shook her head. "Sorry. You're spine fractured during the fall." She then gestured to a small bottle covered with pictures of backbones. He was too tired to read it. "That stuffs a bit new, doesn't react well with other medications." She explained.

He sat up a bit and coughed.

"Are you okay?"

He nodded.

"Pneumonia from the rain and cold." She said, holding the cold compress as explanation. "We'd treat you for it but…well, Madame Pomfrey didn't want to risk mixing the medicines. I got a kick out of reading the side-effects label though. You weren't planning on having kids were you?"

He choked.

"Kidding. Just kidding."

He glared. "What time is it?"

"Near one in the morning." Then, anticipating his next question she added, "It will be safe to give you painkillers by morning."

"Are you too cold?"

"No. It's hot, actually."

She handed him the compress and looked concerned. "You have a fever."

"Obviously."

She let him finish his meal in silence, having abandoned her post at his side for the moment.

Thoroughly exhausted from chewing, he rolled over and closed his eyes.

Quietly, he heard the voice again, a slight relief to the pain in his throbbing head.

It took him a moment to realize that the song was coming from her. "People are trying to sleep you know."

She blushed slightly. "Sorry. My mother used to sing to me when I was sick. It always made me feel better. I just… well sorry."

She stopped and for a minute the room was quiet. He felt a slight jab of disappointment at the silence. "I didn't say stop, you know." He said eyes half closed.

"Whatever you say, Malfoy." And once again the room was filled with her sweet voice.

* * *

"Ginny? Are you still down here?" 

"Shhhhh…he's asleep." She whispered. "What are you guys doing down here?"

"We came to check on you." Harry whispered. "Where's Madame Pomfrey?"

"She left a couple hours ago. I sent her home to get some sleep.

"You need to get some rest, Gin."

"I can't, Hermione, he's burning up."

Ron frowned; he obviously was not concerned with how high Malfoy's fever was. He appeared instead distracted by the fact that his younger sister had spent the last few hours alone at the bedside of the Slytherin prince. He seemed almost afraid that the unconscious boy would somehow still be so impossibly good looking that even in his sleep he would somehow be able to seduce her. Not likely. Though Ginny did have to admit she liked him much better asleep then awake.

"How about this Gin, I'll keep him cool and you rest." Hermione said, taking custody of the cold cloth and guiding her friend over to a hospital cot.

"Okay, but only for a minute. Just to rest…"

"Okay Ginny." Ron said as he pulled the curtains tightly closed around the bed.

* * *

Stomach rumbling once again, Draco awoke in a foul mood. 

The cold cloth was still firmly held on his forehead. He opened his eyes, fully expecting to see the Weaselette. It was not the redhead he saw, however. It was, to his horror, Hermione Granger.

"Geez, get off Granger. First Weasley and now you, I had a nightmare like this once."

"Shut up, Malfoy."

He looked around. He didn't see the female Weasley anywhere. Her brother and Potter, however, were unfortunately present.

"Is whole freaking Gryffindor house here? My gosh, I need painkiller. WEASLEY! WEASLEY, BRING ME MEDICINE NOW!"

"Shut up, Malfoy." Ron hissed.

"NOW WEASLEY!"

Suddenly a livid Ron Weasley's hand was covering his mouth. "Listen Malfoy," He whispered, "You will shut up now and let her sleep, you worthless prat."

"Sleeping on the job?" He sneered once Ron had removed his hand.

"She was up all night making sure you were alright. I would have just let you die."

"Ron! Don't say that." Hermione scolded, but even Malfoy could tell it was halfhearted.

"Aw gee, Granger, I didn't know you cared."

"I don't. We're not here for you, you know."

"Then why are you still here? I'd be much happier if you were gone."

"We're here for Ginny. She's much too kind for her own good. She's cares about everything. Even a pathetic little ferret like yourself." Ron said.

"I-" He was cut off by a loud, hoarse, scream.

"Ginny!" Ron was the first one at her side throwing away the heavy drapes. "Ginny, wake up. It's just a dream, Ginny."

She was awake now, sitting up, and from his place in the hospital cot Draco could see she was drenched in sweat.

"Ron…oh, thank goodness." She threw her arms around his neck. "It was so real."

"You're alright now." He smoothed her hair. Harry, looking slightly uneasy, put a comforting hand on Ginny's shoulder.

Ron untangled himself from her arms (Hermione taking his place in comforting her) and glared directly at Malfoy. The last thing he saw before Ron pulled the curtains closed once again was Ginny Weasely's tear streaked face.

_

* * *

Hi once again. Please review. It's my birthday (I am so not kidding) so make me happy and review or else. pulls out gun and aimes at random reader while happily singing 'It's my party'_


	11. Chapter Eleven

Thanks to all my reviewers! You're all awesome!

Disclaimer; Everything you reconize from the books (or movies) belongs to J.K Rowling. i'm making no money...but if you want to send me some go ahead.

* * *

"There you are Ms. Weasley."

"Sorry it took so long." Ginny apologized. She had left nearly an hour ago to get showered and changed.

"Not at all, dear. I have a meeting at St. Mungo's in a little bit. Can you hold down the fort while I'm gone?"

"Of course, Madame."

"Good. And see if you can't get Malfoy to eat something. He's been an absolute horror all day."

"I heard that!" Malfoy called indignantly from behind the curtain.

Ginny smiled. "I'll see what I can do. How is he?"

"Better. The medicine is working; he is perfectly healed, though I expect he'll be too exhausted to move around much for a while."

Her smile brightened slightly.

The nurse returned her smile. "Goodbye, Ginny." Then called, "Goodbye, Mister Malfoy."

He grunted in return as she left. Ginny was already bustling around the infirmary preparing his medicine, which she brought to him a moment later along with his lunch. He, frowning at the food, accepted the medicine and pushed away the food. Beside his bed was another tray of food, which didn't seem to have been touched at all.

"Have you not eaten?"

"Nope." He said, popping the pill into his mouth. "I refuse to eat that crap."

"You'll never get better if you don't eat."

"That stuff's more likely to make it worse."

"You never make things easy do you?"

"No. Besides, it's your fault I'm in here anyway."

She raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Your precious Potter made me fall."

"And that makes it my fault?"

"By association, yes."

"Well that hardly seems fair."

"Life's not always fair. Get used to it."

"Well in that case, I blame you for global warming."

"And world hunger, too?"

"No, you're not eating, remember? I guess I could, however, blame you for the increase of anorexia in teenaged girls."

"Well with that kind of logic…how can I argue?"

She frowned. "You have to eat."

"No I don't."

"Would you eat if it wasn't hospital food?"

"No, I'm on a hunger strike to promote freaking world peace."

"I'm going to assume that was a yes. Can you sit up?"

"I broke my freaking back! What do you think?"

"I think you've developed a weird emotional attachment to the word _freaking_. Here, give you your arm." Hesitantly he did as he was told. She wrapped his arm around her neck and hoisted him carefully up into a sitting position. Then, with great care, she helped settle him in a wheelchair.

"I feel like an idiot."

"Pride isn't everything." She said, pushing him through the infirmary doors.

"Can't I just walk?"

"You said only a minute ago that you couldn't even sit up. How do you expect to walk?"

"I don't, but anything has to be less humiliating then this. Maybe I could just crawl around for an hour or so."

"You should be able to walk by tomorrow."

"Yippee."

"Don't be a prat."

"Where are we going?"

"To get you food." She continued walking until she reached a very familiar portrait and stopped, looking slightly irked.

"It's the pear, Weasley." He said, annoyed.

"I know how to open the freaking door." She snapped. It was only then that he saw the problem. Weasley wasn't exceptionally short, but then again, neither was the portrait. She stood on her tiptoes, reaching for the pear, but it just exceeded her grasp.

He laughed.

"Shut up."

"How did you ever manage to get in before?" He couldn't help his laughing.

"Harry. Or Ron. They always do it for me."

His chuckling subsiding, he pulled out his wand. "Don't worry, Weasley, I'm not going to hex you. _Wingardium Leviosa!_"

She was lifted slightly off the ground, high enough to reach the fruit that had eluded her. She giggled slightly, before letting her fingers trail across the pink fruit. As soon as the door opened he, not so gently, dropped her on the ground.

She barely caught herself, but smiled brightly at him as she took the handles of the wheelchair and pushed it through the passage that had just opened.

"Wow. Do my eyes deceive me, or did Draco Malfoy just do something kind for once?"

"I see it as more mutual need then kindness. You needed to open the door and I needed to eat. We're kind of like those cleaner fish and the sharks."

"As brilliant as I'm sure that was, I fail to get the comparison."

"You know those fish that latch onto sharks and eat all the dirt and parasites off their skin? The shark stays healthy and the fish gets a free meal."

"Ohh I get it… Am I the fish or the shark?"

He rolled his eyes. "And what happens if the fish gets too annoying? The shark _eats_ it."

"I'm not sure that's scientifically accurate…"

"Weasley, do you know what a metaphor is?"

"Sure I do. It's a comparison."

"How about a rhetorical question, then?"

"Of course. It's a question that's not meant to be answered. Oh wait…was that a rhetorical question?"

"Do you work hard at being this stupid or does it just come naturally?"

She smiled. "Well, since I certainly wasn't aware I was being stupid so it must just come naturally. Because wouldn't I know if I were working at it?"

"That, Weasley, was a rhetorical question."

She smiled happily at him. It was obvious she had gotten under his skin. She could be quite annoying when she felt like it and she felt like it right now.

A small, gnarled house elf walked up. "Hello, Miss Wheezy." It said, tennis ball eyes gleaming with unconcealed admiration. "Can sir help you with something?"

"May I just have the usual please, Moddie?"

"Of course! Would sir like something?" It asked Draco.

"Ahh…no. I'm sure Miss _Wheezy _would be kind enough to share."

She sighed. He could be just as annoying as she could and he intended to prove it.

"Sure…whatever. Moddie? Would you be so kind as to bring two sets of silverware, please?"

"Sure! I will be right back, I will."

"Thank you." She called, as it scurried off to make whatever Weasley's usual was.

"You don't have to be polite to it, Weasley. This is its job, you know."

"This may be its job but that doesn't give anyone the right to treat it like property. It-he- isn't a slave."

"Whatever."

It was a very uncomfortable ten minutes while they waited for the elf to return. It had never taken this long to prepare Draco's food before, whichled him to wondering what exactly he had volunteered himself to eat.

"Here I is. I told you I'd be back." The creature's voice announced as he entered.

"Oh my gosh, it multiplied." He murmured to himself. There were now at least five other almost identical creatures, all carrying platters of food, standing at the kitchen door.

"Weasley, what is all this?"

"This," She said, gesturing happily to the food, "Is the usual."

The elves set down the food and exited, after the girl had assured them they weren't in need of anything else. He examined the plates. Ham and pineapple pizza, sauce less pasta served only with butter and a side of bacon, Oreo's and a jar of peanut butter, scrambled eggs, two bowls full of what appeared to be chocolate chip cookie dough, and nameless other oddities. Did Weasley eat _anything_ normal?

"This is the usual? For what, the whole school?"

"Of course not." She replied while dipping a chocolate cookie into the jar of peanut butter and eating it whole. "Just for me."

"That's disgusting."

"No it's not. Have you ever tried it?"

He shook his head. "I don't intend to either. Do you know how unhealthy that is?"

"No, and please don't tell me. I don't want to know."

"That's chocolate covered death. Do you know how much fat is in one of those things?"

"I don't really care. I'd rather die fat and happy then skinny and miserable anyways."

"How wonderful for you."

"Have you ever, in your entire life, said something not dripping with sarcasm?"

"I was completely sincere when I called you stupid."

"Thanks."

"Don't ask for the truth if you can't handle it."

"You know, it's not smart to insult the girl who's pushing the wheelchair."

"You would use my disability to cause me pain? How very Slytherin of you."

"Are you going to eat or not?"

He grimaced and grabbed the nearest plate, which was piled high with what appeared to be bologna topped with whipped cream.

"Here goes nothing." He took a bite, before reaching for a napkin and spitting it out in a very undignified manner. "That," He said, pushing the plate away, "Was the most disgusting thing I've ever tasted."

She laughed, not the high, feminine squeal Pansy always demonstrated, but instead a deep, throaty laugh, resonating in her stomach.

"The look on your face was priceless!"

"I'm glad you find my discomfort so amusing."

"I do. I really do." She giggled. He gave her a sour look and she sobered slightly. "Here, try this."

She offered him a bowl filled with macaroni and cheese.

"What's the red stuff in it?" He inquired skeptically. He sniffed the bowl, lowering it quickly with a look of puredisgust.

"Hot sauce."

"That is wrong on so many levels."

"Just try it. It's spicy."

He raised the fork to his mouth and murmured, "Somehow I think I'm going to regret this," before gulping down the whole bite.

* * *

"Narcissa! Narcissa!" 

She, squirt billowing around her legs, ran into the room. "Yes Lucius? Is something wrong?"

"Do you know what this is? Weather? Classes? Since when does Severus Snape write of such frivolous things? Small talk! It's all small talk!"

"I asked him to, dear." She said, putting a solacing hand on her husband's arm. "I asked him to write me to inform us of…Draco's performance. I wouldn't want our dear son to run with the wrong crowds, would you?'

The blond man narrowed his eyes at her. "Is he? Is Draco associating with the enemy?"

"No, not as of now, love. But, as our dear Lord always says, constant vigilance is never unwise. If our son _should _for any reason betray us, I want to be the first to know. Besides, that school is horrid. I always fear for his safety when he's there."

Her husband smiled and she knew she had given him the right answer. He even laughed at her.

"Poor, dear Narcissa, always fretting about the Cause. Don't worry, darling, our son is well watched. Stop this foolishness at once"

She paused. Was he forbidding her to continue communicating with Severus? Could he suspect? That wouldn't do at all.

"Well watched! By whom?" She demanded, faking haughtiness

"Crabbe and Goyle. Senior, of course."

"Idiots. Loyal, and important to the Cause, but fools nonetheless."

She encircled him in her arms. "Lucius, he is after all your son." She whispered into his ear. Flattery did what sane words could not. "Do you have any doubt that should he chose to, he could defeat a million Crabbes and a million Goyles with one flick of his wand?"

He smiled at his lovely wife. "Fine, if it puts your mind at ease, you may continue you're little letters. My wife, the spy."

He had no idea how true that was.

When she was sure he suspected nothing, she sneaked upstairs with Severus's letter in hand. She locked the door behind her as she entered her private study. Quickly fetching her quill, she read the letter. Then, once she had memorized its contents, she began counting.

"One…two…three…" When she reached ten she underlined the word. "_Draco_. One…two…five…seven… ten."

_Dear Narcissa,_

_I hope this finds you in good heath, dearest._ _Draco sends his warmest regards. Here at the castle it is quite cool (unseasonable for this month). However, Draco seems taken with it. He enjoys all his classes, save his Care of Magical Creatures, horrid as it is. He's head of all his classes, next to Granger. He seems to meet every challenge thrown at him, which very much reminds me of someone else I know. Like his parents he's at the top of the Slytherin hierarchy. His first official Hogsmeade weekend is coming, I expect he'll ask Pansy Parkinson tomorrow to go with him. I don't envy him the night he'll have to spend with her. I must go._

_Fondest Regards,_

_Severus Snape_

"Draco is taken care of," She read aloud, letting out a sigh of relief without realizing it. That must mean the boy had found a place to stay over the holiday. She skimmed the rest a second time. She turned the letter over. It was dated the seventeenth. Today was only Saturday the ninth. She shook her head in silent admiration as she threw the paper into the fireplace. Severus never ceased to amaze her.

* * *

"Weasley. Get up, Weasley." 

"Hmmm…?"

"Weasley!"

"Shove off, Ron."

"I'm not Ron."

"Charlie, Fred, George, whoever you are."

"I'm not any of your stupid Weasel brothers. Open your eyes."

She did as she was told, the brightness of the daylight burning her eyes. Her whole body ached from the hard hospital chairs.

"Malfoy?" He was standing over her looking impatient.

"I'm leaving."

"Hmmm?"

"I'm leaving and I need my last dose of medicine."

"You're walking?"

"Obviously."

"Okay, okay give me a minute." She rolled over and closed her eyes.

"Oh no you don't Weasley. I can't get out of here until you give me that stupid medicine."

"Fine. Fine." She stood up and went to get his medication. He took it, grimacing.

"I'm out of here. See you Saturday, Weasley." He said, turning to leave.

"Wait…what's Saturday?"

"C'est la Vie. Noon."

She stiffened, attempting to look recalcitrant. "And if I simply refuse to come?"

"I think you'll find my…_charm_ irresistible."

* * *

Next chapter is the resturaunt. SorryI didn't put it in this chapter, i just liked the way this one ended too much to add more. Sorry! 

Shout out to NttyNight for getting the code (sends a really big cookie)! Woohoo! And thanks to QueenThayet12990for being my constant support. Love you guys! And to all my other reviewers I love you soooooooooo much! You're wonderful! You're fabulous! You're...you're...well you're really, really nice. And if you want me to shut up and stop rambling now you have to review!


	12. Chapter Twelve

A new chapter is finally here! I'm soooooooo sorry it took so long! I've had to babysit three nights a week for the past two weeks (Yeah,really puts a damper on you're social life) and every other night I've been too tired from babysitting to do anything but come home and crash. I promise i'll try and get the next chapter up quicker.

On the plus side this is a _really long _chapter! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Nope, still not J.K. Rowling. IfI were I'd be at home with my children writing HBP right now.

* * *

"Ginny, are you okay? As cozy as this is, darling, you have to finish your homework, which requires you to actually be conscious. " Blaise said gently, and then with slightly more force added, "Besides, I can't feel my arm."

"Hmmm…?"

"Ginny wake up. You're drooling."

She woke up enough to argue. "No I'm not, Colin."

"Then how do you explain the puddle on my shoulder?" Blaise asked, shaking his arm back and forth to rock her head off its perch. She rolled over to lean on Colin.

"Oh, no you don't." He shifted in his chair so that her head fell upon the desk.

"I need beauty sleep." She grumbled, turning over and closing her eyes. "You just want me to be ugly."

After a moment she sat up, frustrated. "Grr…now I can't get back to sleep."

"Poor ickle Ginny." Blaise said, tousling her already untidy hair.

She rolled her neck, wincing at the unpleasant cracking sound. "My neck hurts."

"You just spent the past half an hour sleeping on a desk. What do you expect?"

"Oh shut up." She snapped, looking annoyed at her unfinished homework.

"Colin, let me copy you transfiguration homework."

"You're not in my year anymore, remember?"

"Blaise?" She asked hopefully.

"Sorry." He said shaking his head.

"I hate you both."

"Don't say that." Colin said, reprimanding her.

"I do."

"Don't make me tickle you." Colin warned.

"And I'll hate Ron forever, too, for telling you that."

"What?" Blaise asked.

"Nothing!" Ginny squealed, even as Colin answered: "Poor little Ginny is dreadfully ticklish."

"Really, now? I'll remember that for future reference."

"Colin, watch you're back. I know where you live. I know where you sleep. I will find you and get you back for that."

She returned her gaze back to her homework. "This is boring." She announced, packing up her books and incomplete paper on animal-object transfiguration. "Let's go get something to eat. Ummm…I bet they have pie."

"You hate pie."

"Yeah, but I love the whipped cream."

Blaise looked scandalized. "How can you hate pie, you Gryffindor freak!"

"I am in Gryffindor and I do hate pie but I doubt that the two are in anyway related." She said serenely as she led her two friends through the halls that led to the kitchen.

"Sorry. It's a reflex. If ever there is anything wrong, blame it on a Gryffindor. Fail a potions test? Blame Gryffindor. Get stood up for Hogsmeade? Blame Gryffindor."

"If you get trampled to death by a troop of rampaging Hippogriffs being chased by an evil dragon with a bad case of the measles?" Ginny inquired cheerfully.

"Blame Gryffindor of course. I hate to break it too you guys, but you're the universal scapegoat."

"Of course."

"And," Colin asked, "Does the whole school feel this way, or is it just Slytherin?"

"Primarily Slytherin, but other houses seemed to have picked up on it."

"That explains why Hannah was shooting me dirty glances in Herbology." Ginny said.

"Hannah Abbott? The Hufflepuff?" Colin questioned.

"Is there another Hannah at this school?"

"Well no, but Ginny, I sincerely doubt that's why Hannah's annoyed with you."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why then? I haven't done anything to her."

"I can't believe you didn't see it before, Gin." Blaise said, "Hannah's liked Seamus for ages. She's been peeved ever since he asked you out."

"How did she know about that? In fact, how did you know about that?"

"This is Hogwarts, Red, everyone knows about it. Nothing stays secret here."

"I-" She paused and looked impatiently up the wall at the portrait, "Do you mind?"

"Hmm? Oh, of course." Blaise reached up and tickled the pear at the kitchen entrance.

"Great, just what I need. A bunch of gossiping girls bothering me."

"By the way Ginny, Draco said to remind you about Saturday. What's that all about?"

She paused, unsure what to say. Finally she decided the best defense was feigned oblivion. "Who knows? Mad as a hatter that one is."

* * *

"Hello Seamus." 

The blond blushed slightly, but smiled sheepishly. "Hey, Ginny."

She collapsed on the couch next to him. "I'm so tired."

She pulled her legs up underneath her. He opened his mouth to say something, and then stopped.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"No, tell me."

"Nothing."

"I don't believe you."

"Persistent little thing, aren't you?"

"Yes." She smiled proudly. "Now tell me."

"I just wanted to, you know, thank you."

She furrowed her brow slightly. "For what?"

"For saying you'd go to Hogsmeade tomorrow with me. I've wanted to ask you since term started. I was just afraid you'd say no. I mean, not that you would, because you're the nicest girl I've ever met, but then I was scared-"

"Seamus?"

"Yes?"

"You're babbling."

"I-I…"

"And you are so sweet." She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight Seamus."

"Goodnight Ginny."

* * *

Ginny awoke Saturday morning to a burning sensation in her chest. The feeling passed as quickly as it had come. Looking at her clock she groaned. It was eleven thirty, much later then she normally slept in. Then again, with her recent dreams she hadn't been getting a lot of sleep. 

Ginny had had another one last night. This time it had started off with her as a child of only eleven and Tom was once again only her sweet friend. More a memory then a dream really. Except, this time he wasn't inside the diary; he was walking and talking like a real person. Strangest of all was the presence of Draco Malfoy, who seemed to have no active part in the dream, but served only as a spectator who sat quietly in the corner.

She shrugged off her worries as easily as she did her clothes as she stepped into the shower, letting her thoughts wander to happier subjects while the hot water soothed her fatigued body.

She was supposed to meet Seamus at one o'clock. And Malfoy at noon. She snorted; as if that was going to happen. She had to wonder if he was really stupid enough to expect that she would show up.

Quickly she got dressed in a nice pair of jeans and a dark green Kenmare Kestrels Quidditch T-shirt adorned with four-leaf clovers that Seamus was sure to love.

Suddenly, there was another bout of burning on her chest. It was only now that she realized the source of the pain. The necklace. This was not the normal warmth the necklace frequently acquired, but instead sharp and unbearably painful, much more so then it had been only a moment ago. Had it been any other day she would have taken this as a bad omen and paid mind to her unsettling feeling, but today she ignored it. She _was _going to meet Seamus.

Annoyed, she attacked the knots in her hair with a harshness that caused her scalp to sting.

Once again there was a twinge of pain, only this time, it faded not completely away but to pulsing throbs of enervating ache. It seemed as if an invisible rope had wrapped itself around her, gently pulling her toward the castle gate.

She closed her eyes trying to push away the pain. And, suddenly, in that moment she knew, though she didn't completely understand _how_ she knew, that the only way to make the suffering stop was to do as Malfoy wished and meet him in the ridiculous restaurant.

Silently cursing the blond she checked the clock again. It was nearly noon already.

She let out a small cry as another wave of pain washed over her. A knock came at the door.

"Ginny? Are you okay?"

"Colin?"

"You sound sick. Do you need to go to the hospital wing?"

"I'm just-" Another small squeal. "-Just not feeling very well. I'm fine." She hollered at the door, hoping he wouldn't want to come in.

"Should I get Madame Pomfrey?"

"No, no I'm okay."

"Ginny, let me in."

"I think I might be contagious. I don't want to get you sick. I'm fine, really. I think it's just a twenty-four hour bug or something. I'm sure I'll be better by morning."

"Ginny, just let me see you so that I know you're not lying to me."

She sighed. Darn Colin and his stupid brotherly concern. For a moment she planned to ignore him, but then realized he was likely to then go and get Ron. Then she'd be in for some _real_ brotherly concern.

"Fine Colin." She sighed and opened the door a crack, enough that he could see her face.

"You don't look to good, Gin. Can I do anything for you?"

"No, no I'm fin- actually, scratch that. I would love you forever if you would do me a favor."

"And you won't love me if I don't?"

"Of course not."

"I feel so used."

"As well you should. Now will you, please?" As she finished another series of sharp pains emanated from the necklace, as if adding to her story. She cringed slightly, further convincing her friend.

"Sure. What do you need?"

"I hate to ask this of you, but could you please tell Seamus I probably won't be able to make it to Hogsmeade today."

"The things I do for you."

"Thanks Colin. You're the best. I'd kiss you but then you'd end up sick and hate me."

"Promise me you'll get Neville or me if you get worse?"

"I promise if I'm not feeling better by tomorrow I'll go to the nurse. Happy?"

"Extremely."

"Good. Now go…and be gentle with him."

When she was sure he was gone she closed the door and rushed to the mirror. The darn necklace looked completely normal, not even a hint of the pain it was causing her was evident. How could something so pretty and delicate be so…_evil? _

12:05. Crap.

The pain was steadily growing more intense. She was ready to simply run out of the dorm room, when she realized what she was wearing. Only a few minutes ago she had thought she looked nice, but now her clothes felt old and tattered. She considered for a moment simply wearing them anyway, merely to spite Malfoy. But, finally, she decided against it, considering that if C'est La Vie was as nice as Lavender claimed they would probably have a dress code that didn't include jeans and T-shirts. While normally embarrassing the blond prat would have made her smile, the thought of them not letting her into the restaurant and coming all the way back to castle, changing, and going all the way back with the pain of the foul necklace ripping out her insides was enough to make her change her mind. Not a pleasant thought.

Hurriedly she threw open her wardrobe searching for a suitable outfit, finding only worn muggle clothes and school uniforms.

Then, in answer to her silent prayer, her eyes fell on something green.

* * *

Draco was impressed. He had, in anticipation for the resistance that she was sure to raise, made the restaurant reservations at 12:30, knowing she would probably be late. It was now however nearly 12:20 and she had yet to arrive. 

Glancing around, he reached into his pocket and extracted the necklace's counterpart, the small gold ring. It was still glowing red. With an irritated grunt he replaced the ring.

Draco Malfoy was not a patient person and being expected to wait on a Weasley of all people was just plain degrading.

"Draco? Is she here?"

"No, Sylvia. Hold the table."

"As mush as I would _hate_ to even _think _that there is someone on the planet capable of resisting the Malfoy charm, are you sure she's coming?" The girl's voice was teeming with sarcasm, but also with barely concealed concern.

He smiled. "She'll be here. Trust me, she'll be here."

* * *

Ginny had sprinted towards the quidditch field and urged the carriage on at breakneck speeds. Now, making every attempt not to trip over the hem of her robes, she jogged down the dusty road. The pain, her constant incentive, seemed to be ebbing slightly. She knew she was getting closer.

* * *

It was impossible _not _to see her. Her sun-lit hair gleamed red in the bright afternoon light. Her finery changed from black to green as her body moved and bent. The flowing skirt of her robes masked her movements, which Draco knew were not in the least graceful. She looked vaguely confused, turning her face in one direction and then another as if trying to get her bearings. Her dainty features were painted with uncertainty. 

Then she saw him and her look of puzzlement changed to one of annoyance intermingled with rage.

"Malfoy! Do you know what this stupid thing has put me through for the last hour!"

"Tsk, tsk. You wouldn't have felt anything if you were here on time."

"How dare you!"

She put her hands on her hips, looking as if she were debating whether to wait to kill him in his sleep or to just murder him now. She furrowed her brows, apparently deciding that there were far too many witnesses on the street.

There was something annoyingly familiar about her robes that he couldn't place.

"Weasley, you're making a scene. Come inside and I'll explain."

"You'd better or so help me I'll-"

"Draco? Is this her?" The speaker was a rather thin, pale girl. Her flaxen face was unreadable, and her crystalline blue eyes were impassive. She wore a black dress that couldn't have been tighter if it had been painted on. Her hair, the same shade as her dress, fell straight down bellow her hips. Ginny had never seen anyone as lovely as her in her life.

"Yes. This is her."

"Hmmm…" Ginny's face burned as the girl examined her.

"Very well, follow me." The girls walked away slowly, her gently swaying hips drawing many males' eyes as they entered the restaurant. From the older girl, their eyes soon traveled to Ginny, who was quite sure she was blushing. She felt like she was a doll on display.

Draco had moved ahead of the redhead and fallen in step with his exquisite cohort.

"Another one, Draco? Really, this is becoming unseemly. Though I must say, she's not like your usual birds. Your normal booth?" Her voice, like every other part of her, was beautiful, but laced with an icy edge. Though she hadn't looked at Ginny since her arrival, it was spoken loud enough that she knew she was meant to hear the comment.

"This." Draco said wincing. "Is _not _a date. More like a…business proposition."

"Draco I didn't know you were _that _desperate." She said, voice dripping with repulsion.

It took Ginny a moment to understand what the stunning waitress was implying, and then in almost a righteous rage, spoke to defend herself. Unfortunately for her she never got the chance. Hardly being at ease walking normally, she was horribly awkward on the high heels she had 'borrowed' from Lavender's closet. She faltered, tripped, and would have crashed to the ground had it not been for the waiter who so conveniently was there to catch her.

"Are you okay?" He asked, gripping her elbow with one arm and the other wrapped around her shoulder.

"Yes, I'm fine."

Draco laughed. "Don't bother with her. You can put pigs in pretty clothes, but they still long to wallow in the mud."

"Yeah, but at least the pig is happy. You put a ferret in fancy outfits and give him lots of Daddy's money to spend, and he's not any less of a ferret."

"Isn't that ever going to get old?"

"Nope."

"Ummm…?"

"Oh!" Ginny blushed uncomfortably as she realized the waiter was still politely holding her up. "Sorry."

"Quite alright." He helped her onto her feet and she attempted to smooth her dress. She stumbled slightly; one of her heels was broken.

"Thank you…" She paused to read his name tag. "Err…Luther. Yes, thank you, Luther."

"Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, thank you." The picturesque girl, rolled her eyes, accompanied by Draco. With a parting nod, she hobbled after the two with as much dignity as a hurt ankle and a broken heel would allow.

She could feel the boy's eyes on her back and her face burned as she walked away.

"Well," Came the boy's voice from behind her. "This just won't do. What will people say if they see our customer's hobbling out?"

Before she could reply, she felt his arms wrap around her and she was lifted off her feet. He, smiling down at her, followed after her escorts.

"I'm not sure, but I'll spread the word that you have great service here."

"How quaint."

"What?"

"You're blushing."

"Well this is the first time I've been to a restaurant where the waiters carry you to your seat."

He scoffed. "Oh, how deprived you've been."

"Clearly."

"Luther, put the girl down." The girl named Sylvia ordered.

"Don't want to." He whined.

"Put her down."

"Fine, if I have to. Look's like this is your stop, princess." He carefully set her down in a plush velvet lined chair. He pulled her broken heel out of his pocket and placed her foot on his knee as a father would to tie a young child's shoe. "Repairo. There you are." He said as the heel magically fused with her shoe.

She smiled. "Thank you. If I stay out past midnight will I turn into a pumpkin?"

"You're clothes might turn to rags." Malfoy muttered, Ginny glared in response.

"That depends," Luther said, wiping a strand of brown hair off his face, "Will your

fairy godmother swoop down and spirit you away with singing mice?"

"No, she's on vacation. Why do you think I'm stuck with the amazing bouncing ferret?"

Draco glared; Luther only managed to look confused. "Am I supposed to understand?"

"No, not really. Umm…can I have my foot back?"

He smiled and gently put her foot back on the ground.

"Just…call if you need anything."

"Thank you, I will."

He turned and left with Sylvia. Ginny shivered. There was something about that girl. She looked at Malfoy.

"What?"

"You owe me an explanation."

"About what?"

"Cut the crap."

He had to give her points for bluntness. "I'm just returning the favor, love."

"Excuse me?"

"Look, I don't feel like wasting me valuable time explaining to you what you already know. That night in the dungeons, I know you heard everything."

"And Malfoys are never wrong." She said bitterly. "So just humor me. Pretend for one minute that I think you're stark mad and I have no idea what you're on about."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine. I need a favor. I need a place to stay over the winter holidays. You're close in with Potter and I thought…well, if anyone would know someplace safe it'd be you."

"Why?"

"I already said. You're close to Potter and-"

"No." She closed her eyes in what could have been frustration. "I mean why you need a place to stay."

" Look, I won't beg. And I don't have to. You owe me, Weasley, you owe me big."

"I-"

"Hello, my name is Andrea and I'll be your waitress for the evening. Can I get you something?" The server was a young, plump woman with a friendly smile. As she spoke she placed two crystal glasses of water and offered them menus. "Some champagne, maybe? This looks like a special occasion."

"No." Draco said harshly.

"Very well." The woman looked taken aback. "May I get you something else to drink?"

"I need a firewhiskey."

"And you, Ma'am?"

"Umm…This will be fine for now." Ginny answered, gesturing to her water.

"Would you like to order or do you need a few minutes?"

Draco looked at Ginny, who was looking at the menu in mild puzzlement. "I think we'll need a minute."

The waitress nodded and left.

"Do you know what you're going to order?"

"I was really hopping I wouldn't have to stay to eat. Couldn't we just discuss this and leave?"

"They tend to frown upon that. Besides, it would look suspicious. Why do you think I brought you here instead of The Three Broomsticks or, better yet, just stayed at Hogwarts? Because then we'd have people eavesdropping. Stupid people go to quiet places to talk; a wise man uses noise to his advantage."

"Thank you for that." She had stopped listening halfway through and had turned her attention back to her menu, which to her dismay, was written in French. Annoyed she looked around.

"You, yes you. Luther." It was the waiter who had helped her walking by on his way to the kitchen. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the table. "I can't read this."

He smiled. "Tell you a secret. Neither can I."

"So…what's good?"

"Hmmm…" He walked over, platter in hand, to stand over her shoulder. "Feel like duck?"

"Sure, if it's made with chicken."

He laughed. "Let's cross that off the list. Do you like salad?"

"Are you kidding?" She looked up at him in disgust. "It's so…_green._"

"I'll take that for a no. Hmmm…how about steak?"

"Do you put pepper on it?"

"Yes."

She shook her head.

"What about cheeseburgers? Do you like cheeseburgers?"

"I really don't think that's on here."

"Well for you, love, we'll make an exception."

"Really? That would be wonderful." He winked at her as he walked away. Much to Draco's annoyance, the girl called Andrea only returned once more to give him his firewhiskey, before informing them that Luther would be taking her table. It was bad enough being stuck with the Weasley. It was just plain sick to watch men swoon over her.

When he finally spoke again, his annoyance was evident. "I just need you to find a safe place for me to stay for three weeks. Just three weeks."

She sighed.

"So you'll do it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

"Then yeah, I guess I'll do it."

There was a long, rather uncomfortable silence while they waited for their food. Ginny fiddled with the buttons of her robe. Then, he remembered. It was the robe she had gotten that day with him. The one she had been given. He wanted to make a joke about them, to say she looked horrible. To remind her that she had been too poor to really pay for them. Heck, even something as remedial as to say she looked fat, but the words wouldn't come. The truth was, he couldn't blame men for swooning.

Luther approached, holding their food and smiling.

"Have I turned back into a pumpkin yet?" She asked, smiling brilliantly.

"Nope. Fully human." He said smiling and setting down Draco's food. Then, with an extra flourish, he set down a covered platter, and removed the lid to reveal the best (and most expensive) cheeseburger Ginny had ever seen. Lying to the side was a rose.

She blushed.

"Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful. I bet you do this for all the girls." She smiled, trying to cover up her surprise.

Draco scoffed.

"No, just all the pretty red-headed ones who fall into my arms."

"You hear that, Draco? There's a proper protocol for helping girls who fall according to their hairstyle. Would you teach him that? When I fall he just kicks my books. What would you have done it I were say…brunette?"

"Well then I supposed I'd have to give you a carnation."

She blushed.

"I have to go, see you later? And by the way," He added laying down the small leather book containing the check, "dinner's on the house."

She nodded, still slightly pink. Draco was looking at the bill. He had only been charged for his own meal.

"Man, I wish Pansy were this cheap."

"That was weird." She said, looking entirely shocked.

"What?" He asked, looking up.

"The flower, the bill, it was almost like…"

"He was flirting with you?" He finished, "Of course he was, you dolt."

Looking absolutely appalled, she shook her head. He, however, was simply amazed she hadn't realized that the waiter had been hitting on her the whole afternoon.

"How much longer do we have to stay?"

"A few more minutes. Why, do you have somewhere more important to be then with little 'ole me?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes." She glanced at the clock. 2:00. Seamus had probably already given up on her.

He raised his eyebrows. "And where is this place that's so important. A _date_?"

Sarcasm, she knew it was, which gave her all the more satisfaction when she smiled sweetly and nodded. "Yes, in fact."

He laughed.

"What's so funny?" She looked slightly offended.

"What poor bloke is desperate enough to want to date you?"

"Seamus."

He laughed again.

"That's it. I've heard you're angle, I've done my duty. I don't have to sit here and take this. I'm leaving."

He glanced in the direction of Sylvia. She nodded discreetly towards a booth, in which he saw two mountains, which he assumed to be men.

"Weasley, we can't; we're being watched."

To his surprise, she didn't ask by whom.

"I have a plan."

"What?"

"Listen, we're supposed to be two angsty teenagers aren't we? We'll just get into a little fight and I'll storm off. Think you can handle that?"

"I'm not an idiot, Weasley." Which she took as a yes.

"That is a matter of opinion, Malfoy."

For a moment she said nothing, leaving Draco to wonder if she was going to make the first move or if he should. Then, in answer to his question, her palm connected painfully with his cheek.

"I can't believe you would do this to me!" She screamed, purposefully making a scene. The music that had been playing quietly in the background stopped. "I thought- I thought-I-"

"Well you were wrong, okay!" He shouted back, not to be out done.

"What, are you going to tell me it's not my fault next? That it's not me it's you?"

"No, no it was all pretty much you."

"I hate you! I never want to see you again!"

"Good!"

"I-I-arg! I can't even talk to you." And before he could figure out what she was doing, she dumped her water on him. She turned and stormed out.

Draco, slightly more quietly, cursed. Muttering a charm to dry his clothes he, too, stormed out, yelling at Sylvia as the door slammed to charge the bill to his tab. When he emerged from the building he was able to see the form of Weasley, slipping away through the crowd, her form shaking from laughter.

* * *

She kept her hood up, shielding her face. Though with the hair-coloring charm she had employed for the evening she doubted it was necessary, the cover was a comfort. Thank God it was still gently raining or else a fully cloaked and hooded figure would have been conspicuous. She entered their usual building and sat at her normal corner booth. It was only 6:50; she was ten minutes early. She, with slight hesitation, pulled back her hood and waited. Their meetings were always, _always, _at 7:00- an hour after classes let out, giving him time to shower and change- and he was never late. 

"Narcissa?" His voice was hesitant, as if he didn't recognize her. Then again with her now-black hair, he might not have, especially in the shadows like she was. Then, more certainly, "Narcissa."

"Yes, Severus." She turned so that the light hit her.

Draco's mother had always been stunning. Her hair- normally fair blond, not like Lucius and Draco's silver-white- was long, almost reaching her hips when she stood. Her face was not angular; instead her nose and chin were soft curves. Bright blue eyes revealed both confidence and intelligence. At the corners of her mouth, only evident to those who looked very carefully, were slight frown marks. He hated Lucius for putting those there. Now, even when she smiled it was slightly marred with sadness. Severus would have given anything to make her once brilliant smile shine again.

She extended her hand in greeting.

"Hello, Severus."

"How have you been?"

"Well, you?"

He shrugged.

"And Draco…?"

"Is taken care of."

"Thank God. Where?"

"I can't tell you."

"Why?" She seemed indignant.

"Surely you must understand that his whereabouts must be secret"

"But he's my son!"

"And you want him to stay alive, don't you? The less you know the better, should you be tortured…" He didn't need to finish. While she would never _intentionally_ she knew that if Lucius thought she might know where Draco was he would use a truth curse on her and then she'd _have _to tell him. She sighed.

"He's safe?"

"Yes."

"Promise me?"

He promised. Of course he did, he couldn't deny her anything. When she announced she had to go a few moments later, he was sorry to see her go. He kissed her gently on the cheek before watching her depart, pulling up her hood as she left.

He felt slightly guilty, having withheld information from her, but there was no reason to tell her the truth: that he couldn't tell her where Draco was staying because hestill didn't know.

* * *

Another chapter done!Hmm..not my best chapter, butI still like it.

Please reveiw (or e-mail me) with comments about the story! Construtive critism is appretiated but flames will be laughedat.

To everyone who reviewed my last chapter, I LOVE YOU ! YOU ARE SO AWESOME!


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Umm...rather short chapter really. Sorry! I just really wanted to post this because I felt so bad for the last one taking _forever_.

Okay, I didn't have this scene planned but Lavender tapped me on the shoulder and said she wanted a conversation. It was the least I could do after making her so ditzy earlier. So here it is, I don't particuarly like it. I think it's atad confusing, but don't worry if you get lost, the next chapter will clear things up a bit.

Thank you sooooooooo much to my reviewers! You guys make me so happy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing that you reconize from the Harry Potter books of movies. All of it belongs to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.

* * *

"Seamus?" She asked uncertainly. To her immense relief he smiled brightly back at her. 

"Hello, Gin. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, thank you. Could you-could you come with me?"

He stared, looking slightly bemused, but nodded.

When they were outside of the portrait she pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket and, standing on her tiptoes, she secured it around his eyes.

"I can't see."

"Well, of course, silly. That's the point of the blindfold." She took his hand and led him outside, carefully guiding down the stairs.

She stopped and dropped his hand. "Where are we?" He asked.

"You'll see. No peeking."

After a moment he felt her small hands on the back of his neck fumbling with the knot. The blindfold fell away.

He stared for a minute, in shock of what he saw in front of him. A large red blanket had been laid out facing the lake, which in the afternoon sunlight gleamed gold. A small picnic basket lay discarded, its contents emptied onto the blanket. She smiled brilliantly at him.

"Do you like it?" She asked.

"What is all this?"

"I just felt bad about, well, you know, standing you up today. I thought I'd make it up to you. Wanna muffin?"

She had snuck into the kitchen earlier to get food, only to realize she had no earthly idea what Seamus liked to eat. She'd asked for a good assortment of food, hoping that she'd get at least one thing he liked, and knowing from experience that it was very likely. Seamus was, after all a boy, and boys ate everything. She made sure to get muffins though. Lots of muffins; they were the only thing she knew for sure that he liked. He had, she remembered, been eating a muffin the night he had asked her out.

"This is…great." He said, accepting the proffered muffin. "I can't believe you did all this."

She shrugged and sat down, gesturing for him to do the same. He did.

"So…?"

"So." She leaned back on her arms, stretching out contentedly like a cat. "This is one of my favorite places."

He stared at her in amazement. She was one of those people who could blend into any situation. It was hard to feel uncomfortable around her.

"Why?"

"Reminds me of home I suppose. We have a quarry back at the Burrow, it filled up ages ago, long before we owned the house. We swim there in the summer."

"You're lucky. It must be fun to have so many brothers." He said sadly. Seamus was an only child.

"Not really. Not when you're a six year-old scared of heights and your brothers stage an intervention."

He laughed. "You were scared of heights?"

"Terrified. My brothers decided they couldn't live with the shame of a sister who wouldn't play Quidditch so Fred and George decided to play a little game of their own. _I_ was the quaffle. I spent a week in a body cast and Mum was livid. On the plus side I overcame my fear."

"You can say that again. You're reckless on a broom."

"Why, thank you. I love playing Seeker, but I've always really wanted to be a Chaser. I saw Glynnis Griffiths play once, not live of course; it was actually while I was still in the body cast at St. Mungo's. I knew right then that I wanted to be just like her: fearless"

"Glynnis Griffiths?"

"Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, the all-girl pro team." She explained as she bit into a peanut butter Oreo, the one guilty pleasure she had been able to resist. "But then, after they had succeeded in ridding me of my fear, they turned around and pulled a complete 1800. They said flying was too _dangerous_ for me. So when no one was looking I'd sneak out and steal their brooms to practice."

"You're a trip Ginny Weasley, you know that?"

* * *

"Hey guys, what's wrong?" 

In their dorm room Parvati and Lavender were sitting together on Lavender's bed. Hermione looked up, annoyed from her book to watch Lavender trying to comfort a sobbing Parvati.

"He d-d-d-dumped me." The dark-haired girl wailed. "_He _dumped _me._"

"Who?" Ginny asked. Parvati was nice enough, but she went through boys faster then anyone else she knew. Except maybe Lavender.

"Kevin Whitby." She spat, obviously enraged. "A Hufflepuff. I was dumped by a bleeding _Hufflepuff._"

Ginny sat down and patted the older girl consolingly. She glanced at Hermione who rolled her eyes and mouthed, "_She's been at this for **hours**," _over her book.

"It's not like I even liked him or anything. I was just dating him because he was hot and a great kisser. _I_'m supposed to dump _him."_

"Of course."

"I mean, you don't think I really liked him or anything, did you? Because I didn't. Not at all."

"I know you didn't." Ginny said kindly.

"His loss." Lavender comforted.

"That's right. It is his lose. Someday he's going to wake up and realize how much better off he was with me and try to come back. And I'll just rub it in his face."

"You know what I think we need? A girls' night. Just the four of us." Lavender exclaimed.

"Ah…sure. Hermione and I will go get some snacks."

"But I was going to finish-" She held up her book helplessly as Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Shut up Hermione." She whispered. "You'll never finish your book with her wailing like that. At least this way we can stop her from crying."

"Fine. Let's go."

As they walked out Parvati aroused herself from her moping long enough to call out, "And, Hermione, make sure Ginny gets some _normal_ food this time."

By the time they had returned (arms full of candy floss, chocolate frogs, pumpkin pastries, and other such goodies) Parvati had cheered up enough to discuss the various fashion mistakes she had seen that afternoon at Hogsmeade.

"Did you _see_ Elsie? What was she thinking? Green is s_ooo_ not her color. And Mary-Beth? Can you believe that hair-coloring charm? As if anyone's hair is _that_ blonde."

"Oh my gosh, what about Justin? Did you see his pants? He looked like a clown."

"I know!"

"Who?"

"Justin, the Hufflepuff." Lavender answered. Parvati gave a slight whimper.

"Don't say that word."

Ginny sat down with her Oreos.

"So, Ginny," She said, "How was _Bill_?"

"I told you, I couldn't make it today."

"Because of your date with Seamus, I know. But I know you didn't meet Seamus and I saw you leave the castle, Ginny Weasley. In my shoes no less. No one gets that dressed up just for a casual trip to Hogsmeade."

Parvati was thrilled at the intrigue of the situation. "So it was _you_ who stood Seamus up today!"

"How does the whole school know about that!"

"This is Hogwarts, Ginny." Hermione said.

"So I've heard."

Parvati played absentmindedly with Ginny's hair. Normally she would have protested when the dark haired girl pulled out a comb and began brushing Ginny's locks, but she made an exception today. The girl had, after all, just been dumped.

"But what did _Bill _have to say?"

"Quit saying Bill like that."

"What about Bill?" Hermione asked.

"Supposedly he was coming to visit Ginny today."

"I didn't know Bill was coming. Ron didn't say anything."

"That's because it's a secret, Hermione." She said through gritted teeth, hoping the older girl would get the message.

"Oh, I think it's a secret all right. I think Ginny's got a secret boyfriend she's not telling us about."

"Ohh! How did you know?" Parvati asked, enthralled.

"Well, I followed her of course. And don't give that look you _were_ in my shoes, after all. I distinctly saw her go into the restaurant with a man."

"And how do you know it wasn't Bill?" Ginny asked.

"With blond hair? I don't think so."

"Look, you're right, okay? It wasn't Bill. But I can't tell you who it was so just drop it please."

Lavender looked miffed. "Fine, whatever."

Parvati was the one who broke the silence after a moment. "You know what this party needs? A makeover."

"Oh no." Ginny, whose hair was now in two large braids, said pulling away. "You two aren't touching me."

"Not you! Though if you would just let me lighten your hair a bit-"

"No!"

"Fine, fine. It's not you I meant anyway." She said glancing at Hermione who was still devoutly attempting to read her book. She glanced up.

"Not me. No."

"Please Hermione?" The Lavender and Parvati begged.

"You've been crushing on Ron for the longest time, even if you won't admit it. Why don't you just let us give you a little…sprucing up?"

She bit her lip hesitantly. "Well…maybe. But nothing too drastic."

Though Hermione seemed resigned after that to just sit back and allow the two girls to 'spruce her up' she kept shooting murderous glares in Ginny's direction. While the girls worked, they continued their chitchat. Ginny, having never cared for makeup herself, did not participate, though she laughed at the appropriate times and sometimes added a few tidbits of gossip she had heard.

"…and Seamus and Hannah were sitting in the Leaky Caldron when it happened. They can both testify."

"I'm so sure. Like they were really paying attention to what was going on."

"What?" Ginny asked, having let her attention lapse for a moment. The sound of Seamus's name brought her back to reality.

"Oh, I'm sorry Ginny. This must be a sensitive topic for you. I was so stupid to bring it up!"

"What topic?"

"Well, you know, Seamus and Hannah."

"What?"

"Oh my gosh, you mean you don't know? Well I just kind of assumed with you standing him up and all that you…?"

"That I what?"

"Broke up with him of course." Parvati said, not in the least tactfully. Lavender at least tried to be delicate, but for Parvati discretion was too much of a bother. "He was all depressed and lonely and Hannah was just sort of…there, I suppose. They had lunch together and I happen to know for a fact that they were getting awfully cozy in that booth."

"Oh, Ginny. Are you okay?" Hermione asked, eyes full of concern.

She smiled. She was angry of course, but not at Seamus. In reality she found she didn't mind losing Seamus, she minded losing the _idea _of Seamus. Ginny had wanted someone to like her, and Seamus had. He had treated her like she was special, which was what she had been looking for. But she also knew that she didn't even really _know _Seamus as a person. She really should have been mad that he had dated another girl, but she couldn't be. She had, after all, stood him up on their first date and had the situations been reversed she would have probably done the same thing. "I'm fine. We never really officially dated."

"Are sure?"

"Of course."

"This has become so depressing." Lavender pouted. Then her face brightened. "Let's play truth or dare!"

Hermione and Ginny rolled their eyes. Truth or dare seemed to be Lavender's solution for anything. The girls couldn't count the times they had finally submitted and played the stupid games just to get her to shut up about it. Sometimes (okay, all the time) Ginny pitied the man who would end up with Lavender. She had a talent for annoying anything out of anyone. Inwardly, Ginny sighed, she didn't feel like arguing today.

"Fine." She said grudgingly.

"Good. Hmmm…Hermione, truth or dare?"

Hermione gulped. "Ummm…dare."

* * *

Solana:Draco has come to join me in thanking our reviewers. 

Draco: I didn't have a choice. I live in your head, you idiot.

S:(pouts) That's not very nice.

D: Well neither is putting me in a fanfiction with the Weaselette.

S: You know you secretly love her with a passion.

D:(looks disgusted) I most certainly do not.

S:(Points at angry D/G fan girls)

D: Uh...I mean... _of course_ I do.

Fan girl #1: I _knew _it! I just knew it!

Fan girl #2: D/G is cute, but Hr/D is even more cute.

D:(slowly backs away)

Fg#1: As if. Draco and Ginny were meant to be together!

(Crowd of angry Hr/D fan girls shows up)

Fg#2: Why don't we just ask Draco then?

Fg#1:Fine! Draco who do you like-Draco? Draco!

D:Runs screaming back into author's head

(fan girls all leave)

S:Um...if you're still reading this I fear for your sainity. Sorry random thoughts. I love all my reviewers! Please, Please, Please, Review! I'll Love you forever if you do!


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Wow! Another Update! Another short chapter, though. I have state testing this week and that means no homework. If I though I was going to write this much, though, I would have just combined the last two chaapters instead of having tow short one. Oh well.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Though I wish I owned Draco...

* * *

"Ginny are you okay? You didn't sound very convincing last night." Hermione said. 

"Fine, 'Mione. I was just tired was all."

"Are you sure? Seamus…?"

"Is a nice guy, and if he wants to date Hannah, then I say congratulations Hannah."

"Really?"

"I hardly even know Seamus."

"You don't have to know someone to like that. Merlin, if Victor and I didn't prove that, I don't know what will."

Ginny sighed. "It's just nice to feel wanted, you know?"

"Love is the irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired."

"Huh?"

"Robert Frost, muggle poet. The point is I know what you mean." She too sighed and Ginny was pretty sure that she wasn't the only redhead on her mind.

"Hey, I'm going down to breakfast, you want to come?"

She blushed slightly. "I don't think so."

"You can't avoid him forever."

"But I can try."

* * *

Ginny set her jaw in a forced smile. She held her head up high as she made her way into the great hall. 

Lavender had already asked Professor Snape for salamander's blood, which everyone knew was used in Anti-pregnancy potions. Snape had flushed and sputtered but had, in the end, given it to her without any questions. Lavender, not in need of the particular ingredient (much to Ginny's relief), had opted to simply throw the blood away. Ginny, never one to let a good opportunity by, had instead sent it to Pansy Parkinson with a baby's pacifier and a note that simply said "Good luck and Congratulations". Lavender and Parvati had nearly collapsed in a fit of giggles. Hermione, however, still slightly sore about her own dare, had simply cringed in disapproval.

And Parvati had accomplished her task too. She had snuck into the Hufflepuff team's locker room and put itching powder into all of their quidditch uniforms. Ginny had noted with some amusement that a certain Kevin Whitby seemed to be scratching a good deal more than any of his teammates.

Two down and two to go. Ginny certainly had no intention of being last.

"Ginny?"

"Yes?"

"Look, Gin, I think we need to talk."

"Seamus, I'm kind of in the middle of something right now, okay. Can we talk later?"

"But, this is really important."

"But I-"

"Please?"

"Fine."

"Could we maybe do this somewhere else?"

"Come on, Seamus, I'm busy."

"Fine, fine. Look, I can't keep leading you on. I met Hannah at Hogsmeade when you didn't show up and we had lunch together."

"So?"

"And well, then I kind of asked her to go to the next Hogsmeade with me. Look, I'm really, really sorry, Ginny. I feel terrible. I-"

"Seamus, I know. Lavender and Parvati told me. I understand, and you don't have to feel guilty. You've been nothing but a gentleman to me."

"And you're…okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm not trying to brush you off or anything, I just really have to go. No hard feelings?" She said, offering him her hand.

He smiled as he left and Ginny couldn't help but feel a slight twinge of annoyance as she watched Hannah Abbott, pigtails bouncing, join arms with him.

Pushing away her irritation she continued walking past the Gryffindor (smiling at Ron and Harry, winking at her dorm mates) straight to the Slytherin table. Pansy (who Ginny was pretty sure suspected her of the whole pacifier thing) glared, along with her group of Slytherin girls.

"What are you doing here, Weasley?" She scoffed. She grabbed Draco's arm and tugged gallingly. "Draco, make her leave."

She ignored her and instead looked at Blaise, who was seated on Malfoy's other side.

"Blaise, be a doll and move over, will you? I need to sit next to the Ferret."

He obliged, looking amused. "Another dare?"

She nodded sadly. "Why do I do it, Blaise? It always turns out badly."

"What was it this time?"

"I have to sit next to him for breakfast." She said, jerking a thumb in Malfoy's direction. "Not a very impressive dare really, but the consequences if I refused were dire." He raised an eyebrow. "They were going to say that Harry and I have been having a passionate love affair all summer."

"Isn't that just what you always wanted, Weasel?"

"No, not when I'm just now convincing people the exact opposite. Besides, who gave you permission to eavesdrop?"

"That's what you get for talking about me like I'm not here. Besides, am I really _that _unappealing?"

"Yes."

"Liar, you know you want me."

"Draco, I think you're confused. Pansy's on the _other _side of you."

Pansy crinkled her little pug nose.

Draco smirked. "I could get up and leave right now, and then you wouldn't be able to complete your dare."

"Yes." She smiled sweetly. "But then you will have to deal with me tomorrow and the next day and the next day until one day I wear you down."

"Look at you two. Can't you ever get along?" Blaise asked, stifling a grin.

"No." They answered simultaneously.

Ginny spent the rest of breakfast chatting with Blaise and stubbornly ignoring Malfoy.

"As much fun as this was, I think it's time for me to leave." She turned to Crabbe and Goyle.

"One more little thing I have to do. Gregory, Vincent, do you mind?"

Looking completely dumbfounded, both shook their heads. She leaned over and gently kissed each on the cheek. "Thank you."

As she walked away to her first class she could have swore she heard she heard Malfoy laughing.

* * *

"Hey Ginny, can you do me a favor? Can you store this? There's no space in our room." 

Ron extended a huge shopping bag.

"What is all this?"

"Harry and my Christmas shopping."

"Um…for who?"

"For everyone Ginny." Harry said. "Gee, I never knew you had so many cousins. Plus everyone from the Order. Look what I got for Snuffles." Smiling wickedly, he held up a bag of bacon flavored doggy treats.

She laughed. "I can't believe I didn't start shopping already! I have so much left to do. Maybe Hermione will go with me sometime."

"Are you kidding? It's October; she been done with her Christmas shopping for _at least _a month."

"Oh, be nice Ron." She scolded.

"Speaking of Hermione, has anyone seen her?"

Ron looked thoughtful. "I haven't seen her since yesterday. She's probably messing around with a stupid time-turner again."

Ginny winked. "Don't worry, Ron, I think you'll see her soon enough."

* * *

Something odd was happening in the Common room. Lavender and Parvati were sitting in the corner, giggly hysterically and continually glancing in Harry, Ron's direction. At the top of the girls' dormitory stairs stood Hermione. Upon seeing her entry, Hermione gave Ginny a pleading look. For a minute, she didn't understand and then, realizing the time, she understood. 

It was quickly approaching seven, the deadline for the dares, and Hermione had yet to complete hers. With a deep breath, Hermione descended the stairs.

"Good luck." Ginny murmured as she passed.

"Thanks," She answered without stopping, "I'll need it."

"Hi, Ron." She said, shyly.

He barely glanced up. "Oh, Hi, 'Mione. Where were-whoa Hermione. What did you do to yourself?"

She looked hurt. "You don't like it?"

"No, it's-it's great."

Ginny didn't know how Hermione had gotten through the day without being noticed by Ron, but by the obvious surprise on his face it was clear this was the first time he had seen her.

And he was right; she did look great. As she had requested, Lavender and Parvati hadn't done anything too drastic. They had shown her a hair-straightening charm that only had to be applied once a week and her brown tresses now hung in place without the slightest bit of frizz. They had also added lighter highlights-not quite blond- that in Ginny's opinion looked marvelous. Her face had a very minimal amount of makeup, hardly noticeably, that accented her naturally attractive features. It was hard to when her nose was in a book, but standing there in lovely blue robes (that someone else had picked out for her, no doubt) Hermione, Ginny decided, was very pretty.

Hermione beamed. Then, without preamble, she leaned forward pulling Ron up off the couch, wrapped her arms firmly around his waist and kissed him. It was over before Ron had ended figured out what had happened.

Hermione's face was flushed bright pink as she tried to explain. "See, it was a dare and then I…" Not being able to find the words, she turned, still very pink, to flee.

Ron however, caught her hand.

"I-"

She couldn't have finished if she had wanted to, because before she could explain, Ron's lips were on hers. For a moment, Hermione's body went rigid before she pulled herself closer and allowed him to deepen the kiss.

The cat-calls and cheering was what finally stopped them. The entire Gryffindor house was in an uproar. Parvati and Lavender were simply glowing and Ginny was unable to hide her smile.

Dean clapped Ron on the back. "Thanks, man."

"For what?"

"Lee and I had a bet going. I told him you two would be together by Christmas, but he didn't think you'd hook up until after graduation." Dean smiled. "Now if you excuse me, I have two galleons to collect."

The establishment of Gryffindor's newest and longest awaited couple seemed to merit a party. Friends of Hermione and Ron's were happy to see them finally getting over their own stupidity. Others simply stayed for the butterbeer. The merriment lasted until nearly midnight. Professor McGonagall had entered around ten to break it up, but after Ginny discreetly informed her of the reason for the ruckus, she had quietly slipped away and let the party continue.

While Ginny joined in the fun, she couldn't help but be slightly distracted. She was getting an idea and it wasn't one she liked.

* * *

I'm sorry there hasn't been much Draco in the past few chapters, but I promise he'll be in the next chapter. Hehehehe...I know something you don't know...hehehehe...

Okay, nowpush that little button right there..no,no to the left...down...down...there! Right there, the pretty little one that says review.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Hey guys! Thamks soooooooo much to all my reviewers! As always, your critisisms are apreciated. You guys make me so happy.

Disclaimer; Not mine. Never will be. Stop rubbing it in.

* * *

Today we will be changing lab partners. Some find this class to _difficult_." Professor Snape said coldly, almost daring any one to point out that the class _was_ difficult. 

Ginny looked around the room and the only Hufflepuff had, indeed, disappeared. Several Slytherins snickered. She looked hopefully at Blaise seated beside her, and he smiled in agreement.

The two made a good team. While Ginny was well learned in potions and books, she was not good at coming up with new ideas of her own. She was shrewdly observant and focused on what she could see. Blaise, however, used foresight. He was calm and collected for her impulsiveness. While she looked at the surface, he was already looking beneath. She was glad to have him as her partner.

Only Snape seemed to have other ideas.

"Mr. Zabini will be paired with Mr. Blackwell." He said, pointedly glancing at a blond Slytherin who blushed slightly. "Maybe he'll be able to help you bring up your pitiful grades, Blackwell."

Blaise looked apologetically at her, but she shrugged him off. It wasn't his fault he was good at potions.

"Miss. Brocklehurst your partner will be Miss. Turpin." Two Ravenclaws. Then came two more Ravenclaws: Mary Surrey and Martha Richards. Next they learned that Jarred Marks would work with a fellow Slytherin, Malcolm Baddock. The next was a pair of Slytherins, Tracey Davis and Daphne Greengrass.

Ginny looked around as the crowd of unassigned people around her dispersed.

"Mr. Graham will be working with Mr. Bletchley."

The sinking feeling in her stomach that she had acquired when she learned Blaise was not going to be her partner intensified as Professor Snape announced that Michael and Joanna, the last two Ravenclaws, would be working together.

That left only one person: Malfoy.

"Professor-" Draco started, eager to argue his way out of being her partner. Not that Ginny minded.

"Do you have a problem with the seating assignment Mr. Malfoy?" Snape cut him off and the look in his eyes discouraged dispute.

Draco, however didn't back down. "Yes I-"

"Then get over it so I may start my lesson. Now sit down." Which the blond did, pouting. "Ms. Weasley, what about you?"

"I sure as heck do. We already have one class together! Are you crazy or do you just _want_ me to kill Malfoy? Or is it you just like making us unhappy, is that it?"

"That's enough Mrs. Weasley. We can discuss this tonight, in detention. Now take your seat. And fifteen points from Gryffindor for your outburst."

Fuming, she sat down and waited impatiently for Snape to finish his lecture. When he let them start on their potions, Ginny began haphazardly cutting the caterpillars.

"You'll lose a finger that way." Draco noted emotionlessly.

"Good, that would get me out of classes for at least two days. Three if it gets infected."

"I don't think I've heard anything that cheerful all day."

"You're particularly unbearable today."

"And you're especially tetchy today. What's got your knickers in a bundle?"

"Nothing."

"You know that thing at the restaurant, with the water?" He said after a moment, "Not part of the plan."

She smiled innocently and looked up at him from beneath her lashes. "I was improvising."

"You're improvising nearly ruined my shirt."

"Would've served you right. Ugly shirt."

He shook his head, "Says the girl who shops at thrift shops."

"Yeah, like I would take fashion advice from a guy who wears more frills than I do."

* * *

_The dreams were infatuating. The colors and sound were so vivid that the images replayed in his mind for hours after he woke. _

_At first, the dreams were just another thing to use against her. He was sure that if he kept coming eventually he would find something to use against her. Some admission of guilt to a past crime, a secret crush, a deep, dark secret. He had found nothing of the sort, and yet he still could not keep himself from coming._

_The dreams were forever changing, morphing. Sometimes they were dreams of her past and Ginny was young, thin and full of smiles. These seemed to be memories, recollections of thing that had really happened. The boy she called Tom, appeared in these as a kind friend, a mentor, the subject of a girlish crush, often making Ginny blush. _

_Other times they were of the present, and these were the only ones in which Ginny seemed perfectly in control of what she was saying. When they were current, it was obvious Ginny disdained Tom. She had even slapped him several times, but was unable to leave him. There was something about the boy that linked her to him, transfixed her, and while she broke out of her trance long enough to bicker and struggle, she never managed to completely banish him from her dreams._

_Rarely they were of the future, and these tended to be silent, but full of emotion. These usually featured an older Ginny normally adorned in strange, elaborate dresses and robes._

_This one seemed to be the latter. _

_She was standing in the doorway, leaning heavily against its stone frame. Dressed in a deep green garment that clung to her curves and cut much lower than anything she would have really worn, she was much older then her fifteen years. Though she looked tired, Draco could _feel_ the happiness radiating from her as she watched the tall, dark haired man approach, holding a small raven-haired boy on his shoulders. From behind her skirt, two small heads appeared. Identical from their small freckled noses to their shockingly red hair, they were clearly members of the Weasley clan. Only instead of Ginny's green eyes, theirs were a deep blue-black, obviously the mark of their father. Tom's eyes, he realized._

_The man set down the boy who ran excitedly toward Ginny, smiling happily. Draco could now clearly see the light sprinkling of freckles on his face and his bright green eyes. _

"_Mother, Mother, look!" He held open his cupped hands to show her something he had found and picked up on his way home. The small twins emerged from behind their mothers dress to greet their brother._

_And again, through the bond of the spell, he could see what she saw, feel what she felt. He was overcome with a sense of pride he had never felt before. A host of other emotions ripped through his chest, filling his heart to a capacity he hadn't thought possible. Most prominent was the feeling of satisfaction as she admired her children._

_A maid appeared carrying a small, weeping baby. Ginny's older self reached out and took the baby from the servant. She rocked him slightly and gurgled some incoherent words and within a moment he cooed contently and snuggled silently closer against his mother's breasts. _

_The man had now reached the door. He leaned carefully over and kissed Ginny lightly._

"'_Ello, love."_

_She smiled brightly at him. "Hello Tom."_

_He pulled her into his arms, letting her lean against his chest for support. _

"_I love you," He whispered. "Forever."

* * *

_

Her back ached and for a moment she couldn't recollect where she was. She rubbed her eyes and waited for them to adjust to the darkness. It wasn't until she rolled over, knocking the History of Magic book off her lap, that she remembered where she was. The Gryffindor common room.

"Ginny? Are you okay?"

She jerked away as the warm hand touched her shoulder.

"Hey, Gin, it's just me. Just Harry."

Still not quite awake, she didn't comprehend at first. "Harry…?" Then a more surely, "Harry. Harry, what are you doing up?"

"Same as you, I'd expect. Nightmares." He sounded tired, not physically- though he surely was- but instead emotionally drained.

"I wasn't having nightmares." Even to her ears the lie sounded thin and unbelievable.

"So you just woke up screaming bloody murder for the fun of it?"

She didn't remember screaming at all, but that would explain the dryness of her throat. "Yes."

"Liar. I've slept at you're house enough summers to know that you don't just wake up screaming. That's the kind of thing I think I'd remember. Lumos." He sat down and put a comforting arm around her. "Now, you just tell me what's wrong."

She looked dubious. "You won't tell Ron or anyone?"

"No."

"I've been dreaming of To- Voldemort lately."

She didn't feel compelled to add that they were dreams of a young, handsome, charming, Tom Riddle as opposed to a crazy, demented, red-eyed Voldemort. Somehow it didn't appear completely relevant. Besides she couldn't expect Harry to understand and the last thing she needed was him mouthing off to Ron.

She nearly laughed at the notion. And Ron hadn't liked the idea of her dating _Dean_. What would he think of her having dreams very clearly implying Lord Voldemort was the father of her children?

"Is that all?" Inquired Harry, sounding slightly relieved that she hadn't started crying. Crying girls was defiantly not his area of expertise.

"What do you mean, is that all?" She drew back out of his support to look at him, offended.

"Well, Ginny," He cut in quickly to clarify his nonchalance, which she had very obviously misinterpreted. Ginny was very rarely upset, and even more rarely did she show her distress. If she was this troubled by something it was clearly very important to her and Harry didn't want her to feel she had mad a mistake in sharing her grievances with him. "It's close to Halloween, the anniversary of the Chamber. It makes sense that you should dream about it now."

She hadn't considered that. But Harry was right; the dreams had all but vanished until recent weeks and it was understandable that they would occur around the same time as her original possession. Sinking back into his embrace, she said, "Your turn."

He didn't answer.

"You said you were having nightmares." She prompted, though she knew he had understood. He wasn't looking at her anymore; instead his gaze was fixed on the wall. She feared for a moment that he wouldn't answer, but finally with a heavy voice he said, "They died on Halloween."

She didn't have to ask who they were.

"Oh, Harry." It seemed inadequate, but she couldn't find any words that would comfort him. She was overwhelmed with not only pain for her friend, but also overpowering guilt. Here she had been worried about her own stupid dreams. How petty that seemed now.

"Oh, Harry," She said again, and the roles quickly changed. She went from being comforted to comforting. She pulled his head down into her lap, placing a soothing hand on his shoulder. His whole body quaked with dry, raking sobs, almost as if he had no tears left in him to cry.

Ginny felt her heart break. In that moment she hated Tom more then she had before for what he had done. Not to her, but to Harry.

* * *

Draco was going crazy. He had sent three letters to his mother in the past three weeks and hadn't gotten a reply for any of them. So many letters, he knew, looked unusual, but he was worried out of his mind. He hadn't been able to concentrate in classes and hadn't sleep well at night. He couldn't find peace until he knew his mother was all right. He quickly scrawled yet another note and gave it to his eagle owl who, tired of flying the long distances between Hogwarts and Malfoy Manor, bit him. 

"Ouch! You mangy little crow!" He sucked at the small bead of blood that had formed.

Once again he tried to tie the parchment to the bird's leg, but the owl would have none of it. He stepped out of Draco's reach and hooted imperiously.

"Stupid bird."

The owl hooted once more and Draco could have sworn the thing glared.

"Fine, fine. I'll go get an owl from the Owlery; they're faster anyway." The bird looked at him again, as if to say 'You really think I'd fall for that?'

"Arg."

He sighed but grabbed his cloak and walked up to the Owlery grumbling all the way.

He selected a Black-and-White owl that looked fast and attached his letter to its leg. True to its name, the bird was nearly completely black, with the exception of its stomach which was streaked with white. It was sleek and sharp and its eyes were intelligent. This one, obviously better tempered then his own pet, jumped from its perch onto Draco's shoulder and hooted. It took a strand of silver in his beak and tweaked the boy's hair.

"What?"

Draco wasn't an animal person, especially not since that incident with the hippogriff in third year. Owls made him uncomfortable, they were all together too smart to be trusted, and something about this one was particularly unnerving. It hooted again, surprising Draco and making him jump. This whole business with his mother was making him far too jittery.

"Do you want an owl snack or something?" He offered the bird a small treat, which it snubbed and continued to stare. Slightly annoyed he asked, "What?"

Of course he didn't expect an answer, it was just a stupid bird after all, but speaking the questions aloud helped calm his nerves.

"You just worry about getting this to Mother, all right?"

He stared after the creature as it flew away, completely unaware of the pair of doe green eyes watching him.

* * *

Ginny Weasley watched in wonder. Draco Malfoy had once again unknowingly let her see behind his mask and she didn't know how to react. She couldn't quite identify the emotion behind his steel gray eyes as the owl flew away. Concern? Was it possible for someone as heartless as Malfoy to feel concern? But then again, as Ginny had now seen-twice- he wasn't as emotionless as he appeared. 

She really hadn't been trying to spy. She had simply been trying to mail a letter. As soon as she heard voices she should have turned the other way. After all, curiosity killed the cat. But, being the sister of Fred and George Weasley had certain requirements and endless curiosity was one of them- that and a ready supply of nose-biting teacups, but that was another story.

She was about to move from her hiding place when a slight rustle stopped her. Following the sound, she saw it was only an owl returning. Then, upon further investigation, she saw that it was the very same owl that Malfoy had just sent out with the post.

It landed with the lofty grace of all raptors not on a perch, but on the floor. Sensing something was about, she remained pressed against the rafter as closely as she could and tried to quiet her breathing.

Then in a disgusting blend of feathers and skin, the bird began to take on a new form.

Ginny had seen someone change from animagus form before. In her first year Professor McGonagal had changed from a cat to a human on the first day of class. Several times she had seen Sirius take the form of a hulking black dog to his normal form with seemingly no effort. Watching this had been interesting, even entertaining, but those had been _quick,_ a matter of seconds at the most.

This was agonizingly slow. Every bone in the owl's body seemed to break and reform at a new angle and the feathers melted away exposing pale skin beneath. Watching it, the room seemed to spin. She closed her eyes tightly and pushed down the nausea. When she opened them again, it was all over. There, looking slightly disheveled and flushed, was Professor Severus Snape.

He looked down at the letter that had fallen, forgotten, on the floor during the transformation.

"Incendio." The professor sad quietly, watching the letter shrivel and burn only a moment before hurrying down the stairs.

Not waiting as long as she probably should have, Ginny rushed from her hiding spot and stomped fruitlessly on the burning letter.

"Wait…duh, Ginny." She pulled out her wand, thanking Merlin she hadn't left it in her dorm room.

"Extintor!" She called and immediately the flames stopped. She carefully picked up the paper and unrolled it. It was scorched and tattered in places.

"Restablecer," She commanded and the missing patches materialized as perfectly as if they hadn't been damaged.

_Dear Mother, _

_I hope you and Father are well. We have a quidditch game coming up soon against Hufflepuff, an easy win. School is, as always, predictable and boring. The only remotely exciting class is Care Of Magical Creatures, and that's only because if you look away for even a second, you find your arm being gnawed off by a hippogryff or blast-ended skrew or some other equally horrendous creature. I do, however, fear Snape has gone mad. Today he paired me with the girl Weasel (Ginny, short for…something, and she's just as unbearable as any of the others. Perhaps even more so). I expect one of us will be dead by Friday. With any luck it'll be her and Potter and Weasley will be so depressed they'll off themselves. Father shall have to make a complaint about this. I must go, Mother, quidditch practice is about to start, but I'll write again soon._

_Forever You Devoted Son,_

_Draco_

Ginny reread the letter several times and only became more mystified each time she did. What in this could be so important that Snape would burn it, and why did he want it in the first place? It made no sense. It was a simple, exceedingly boring, run-of-the-mill letter and she couldn't see anything so important about it…unless…

"Aparecium." She said, pointing the tip of her want at the parchment. Suddenly, a new message appeared, below the original.

_Mother, _

_Please, if you are at all able, reply. You're lack of response has me worried out of my mind. Are you okay? Has Lucius harmed you in any way? If he has I swear I'll kill him. I will be waiting anxiously for your reply._

_With all my love, _

_Draco_

Slowly, she folded the parchment, pondering what she had just read. Things were definitely getting strange indeed.

* * *

HI guys. Sorry this chapter took a while, but my computer died. As in wouldn't even turn on. But my brother got a new one andI got his old one (yes, as the youngest of three I always get hand-me-downs, but I'm used to it). THis is my spring break so I'll probably update again soon. 

PLease, review! It makes me write faster...


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Hi! I'm back with another chapter. Ummm...It's rather short. Sorry, I haven't had mush time because we had my aunt and her family come over so...Anyway Thanks to all my reviewers. You guys make me so happy.

Disclaimer: I own Nothing that you reconize from the Harry Potter books or Movies and no profit is beingmade. Please don't sue me.

* * *

"What's going on?" Ginny asked.

"A costume party! Isn't it wonderful, Ginny?" Hermione was positively beaming.

"Just peachy." Ron griped.

"A party? Isn't that kind of…I don't know, cliché?" She asked looking at Ron and Harry who seemed nearly as unhappy about the idea of a Halloween ball as she did.

Hermione looked slightly insulted but brightened almost immediately. "But you haven't heard the best part! It's for a good cause."

"What cause exactly?"

"The AOHEAP." Hermione said cheerfully.

She was met with three blank stares and groaned in frustration at their ignorance.

"The Agency for House-Elf Abuse Prevention." She clarified.

"And I thought SPEW was bad." Ron grumbled. Hermione seemed not to hear.

"You see, I thought we could charge, like, a sickle to enter the contest, and then at midnight we would announce the winner. Well, not us of course, the teachers would be doing the actually judging, because, I mean-"

"Come on Hermione," Ron said, but not unkindly, "Get on with it."

"Right. The winner would get half the entrance fee and the other half would go to AOHEAP. Isn't it just brilliant?"

"Well, it certainly is…original." Ginny said in what she hopped sounded like a supportive voice.

The truth was, she suspected the older girl had something more on her mind then house-elves. This was her gentle way of pushing Ron to make some kind of commitment, albeit a small one. Ever since their first kiss, they had been following each other around like two lovesick puppies, but Ron hadn't actually taken her on a date anywhere. He hadn't really made any effort at all to further their relationship. All this, Ginny knew, through the after curfew talks that she and Hermione had become very prone to having. But Ginny also knew that Ron probably didn't even realize Hermione was unhappy. After she and Ron had kissed, Hermione had ran to the library and checked out all the books on relationships she could find. While Ginny wasn't all that well versed in relationships herself, was pretty sure that all that assert yourself-set rules and boundaries-make him take you out at least once a week-greet him at the door in saran wrap crap wasn't what the two needed to base their relationship on. Especially since Ginny _really _didn't want to picture Hermione and Ron snogging in a pile of Saran wrap.

"In fact, Herms, I think it's a great idea." She said smiling and hoping no one would realize she was lying through her teeth.

Hermione glowed, but her smile faltered after a moment. "But, of course, I'll need some helpers to recruit participants, and I don't know where I'll find three willing volunteers. No one would want to give up some of their time at the ball soliciting people for a sickle. I mean, I guess I could just do it by myself. But I don't know what I'd do about time there's no way I could get to everybody by myself…maybe I could just break out the old time turner again. I-"

"Enough, Hermione." Harry said smiling. "No need to keep guilting us into it. We'll do it already."

"Oh, thank you Harry!"

"Personally, I'm ashamed of you Hermione." Ginny said. "I thought I taught you how to act better than that. Time turner indeed!"

Hermione laughed. Then, in her best modest student voice she said, "I'm sorry, Ginny, I just don't have the same experience with guilt trips as you do."

"That's okay, Herms, you do seem to have the flattery department down pat."

"Why thank you." She said giggling before noticing that Ron was looking very sullen. "Ron…?"

"I never said I'd do it, you know." He said.

"But…"Hermione looked stricken. She had just kind of assumed that Ron would help her. He was her…well, not boyfriend yet, but that would change soon if she had anything to say about it.

"Please Ron?" She asked sweetly, before shyly kissing him on the lips and whispering something into his ear that made him blush.

"Fine, fine." He said, looking rather flustered. "But I'm not wearing a costume."

Then, his ears still rather pink, he hurried up the stairs. Ginny made a mental note to ask Hermione later what exactly she had said to him.

* * *

Ginny had been racking her mind for a solution, _any _solution, and as of yet, she hadn't come up with anything. She bit her lip nervously and tugged on one of her curls, as she tended to do when she thought. She rolled over, not wanting to think about it anymore and reached haphazardly for her wand. 

"Lumos." She whispered.

"Ah, Gin, turn off the light. I have an exam tomorrow. I need to get some sleep."

"Sorry Lavender. Nox."

Quietly replacing her want on the bedside table she rolled over once again and silently prayed that she wouldn't be visited with images any scarier than Ron and Hermione having a go at it surrounded by cellophane.

* * *

"Are you completely daft, woman?" He demanded, looking extremely irate. "I am _not _wearing that. I haven't even said I'd go with you." 

"Oh, but please, Drackie? We would be soooooooo cute together." Pansy said, putting an extra accent and girlish giggle at the word _so_. She thrust the offending article at him and he glared at it in obvious disgust. It was a lacy, frilly…something, trying to disguise itself as a costume. It was meant to be a dragon, Draco was pretty sure, but falling miserably short of its intentions, the frock brought the words _green rhino_ to Draco's mind. And unless he was trying to entertain a bunch of five year-olds with balloon animals, there was no way he would even let the thing touch his perfect skin.

The matching costume, which he couldn't even begin to imagine what it was supposed to be reminded him of a big, neon pink, flamingo.

"Did you not just hear me? I. Am. Not. Wearing. This. I don't even want to go with you; I'm thinking of asking that pretty Ravenclaw girl from Transfiguration."

They both knew it was a lie. Draco would have liked nothing better then to not have to go with Pansy, but social responsibility dictated otherwise. She had, since a very young age, been on the list to potentially become his future bride. And while the Malfoys had long ago discarded her name they didn't feel the need to disclose this information to her father as he still continued to give generous donations to all of Lucius's many business enterprises. His father intended to milk money out of the family for the longest time possible before having to break the news to Mr. Parkinson that his daughter was a pug-faced brat who would never tarnish the Malfoy name or gene pool.

Draco would have liked nothing better than to tell her that very thing right then, just to spite his father (not to mention to keep the little tart away from him) but he knew doing so would incur Lucius's wrath.

"Draco, you don't _really_ mean that do you? I mean, you would never really leave me would you?" She attempted to make her voice silky smooth and seductive. She failed horribly.

"Just shut up, Parkinson. I'm not wearing this and that's final. If you insist on going with me, then so be it, but I'm not wearing some bleeding ridiculous costume. Now get out of here."

She simpered and ran out the room. Idiot.

He sighed and sat down on the couch in his dorm room. Blaise entered, smiling brightly.

"Pansy just ran out of here crying like a banshee. Good job, mate." He clapped Draco happily on the back, but then paused when he saw the look on Draco's face.

"Still no answer? He asked.

Draco shook his head. "No, not in four freaking weeks. Merlin, I can't believe I was stupid enough to leave her alone with that monster." He looked up at Blaise with eyes full of unshed tears. "If anything happened to her…" His voice cracked.

If it had been anyone but Blaise Draco would have been horrified at this show of emotion that was so unlike him. Calm, cool, collected, that was Draco Malfoy, not some blubbering, soft idiot. But this was Blaise, the only person he didn't have to pretend around, the only person he could trust.

Draco wasn't a Gryffindor; sacrificing wasn't in his nature, but Blaise knew that if he ever needed anything that he could go to Draco and he would get whatever he required in excess. It was true, Draco was a fierce enemy, but he was an even fiercer friend.

No one seemed to understand that. There were so many layers, so many masks and misconceptions that he had built up over the years to hid himself. He knew that if you were brave enough to get through all those layers, you'd find a pretty decent guy underneath. Not that it wouldn't be hard. Draco fought like heck to keep anyone from encroaching his meticulously kept barriers.

Blaise had once heard an old proverb that stated if you pushed something away and it came back it was meant to be. Draco put a whole new meaning to that.

He sat down next to his blond friend and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hey, I'm sure she's alright. She dealt with him way before your time. Besides, I've met your mum, and she's a clever woman. She'll take care of herself."

"Then why won't she answer me! She must know it's driving me mad!" Draco yelled, knowing no one could hear him through the charmed door.

For a moment, Blaise said nothing. "I don't know." He finally said. "I just don't know."

* * *

Okay, for those of you who didn't get it...Marabel Morgan wrote a book that's become rather infamous. She wrote that women shouldn't need to further their education at a university, but should instead study upon the wants and needs of a husband as to be more pleasing. It was supposedly very anti-feminist. One of the more famous things from the bok was the suggestion that to keep your relationship passinate you should greet your husband at the door wrapped in Saran Wrap(is that what it's called in England? You know, the plastic stuff you wrap your food in before putting itin the refrigerator?)and notiong else. 

Review! Please! Pretty pretty please with sugar on top?


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Hey! Sorry it took so long to get this chapter out, but at least it's long, right? Right? Any ways, I was sick for two days and missed school so I had a ton of makeup work so I didn't write fora while, and now I'm at my sister's dorm room (she's in college obviously), using her insuferable laptop and it's taken me like three hours longer then it normally would have to finish this chapter. So I hope ya'll like it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. Unfourtunatly I am not J.K. Rowling and I do not own any of this so don't sue me. Actally,I have nothing to take if you sue me soI guess it doesn't matter.

* * *

Had it been up to her, she would have stayed home and sulked and eaten cake all night. Then Hermione had come to her for help for the costume contest, and she had accepted for Hermione's sake. If it had been up to her, she would have thrown a sheet over her head for her costume. But of course, aside from the fact that that would have been insulting to Nearly Headless Nick and other ghosts, Hermione had forbid her. If it had been up to her, she would have pulled the covers over her head and hid.

Of course, it was not up to her, so as she entered the Great Hall in a foul mood, she sighed and tried to keep her mind off of Tom.

Descending the stairs at a careful pace, she felt like a princess from one of the fairytales she had once so longed to live. Holding the hem of her dress up so as not to fall, she felt as if any moment the music would stop and every eye would turn to watch her grand entrance. Perhaps Victorian in style, though she wasn't sure, the black and red dress- more black than red- was striking, but not raffish. It fit her nicely without being unseemly (which, considering she had not given Hermione her measurements, was probably the result of a fitting charm). Where once the neckline had been so low as to be inappropriate, it now- heightened at Ginny's insistence- reached as far up her torso as her collarbone. While the actual skirt of the dress was black, an under layer of crimson became apparent as she walked. The dark material of the dress complemented her creamy skin and emerald eyes shone like gems from behind a mask as dark as raven wings.

She let out a slight sigh of relief as she reached the bottom of the flight, thankful that she hadn't tripped or otherwise embarrassed herself. The whole hall was buzzing with excitement. She felt as though she had entered a whole new world. The normal Halloween decorations-the pumpkins and jack-o-lanterns, the dancing skeletons, the bats- were all up as usual, but were once the great hall was a palate of only house colors and dreary gray stone walls, colors of every shade whorled around her in a rainbow of shades. Like a stranger on a foreign planet she studied the strange costumes that surrounded her.

The music was nearly drowned out by the excited chatter of students and the exhilaration of the atmosphere was intoxicating. It was as though everything in Hogwarts had shed its dull exterior and come to life in vibrant shades just for the occasion.

"Hello, Ginny." Luna, from behind a pale blue mask, said in her singsong voice. "You look lovely."

Adorned in bright magenta robes trimmed in white, Luna herself looked extremely pretty, at least in Ginny's opinion. The color-amazingly-suited her and set apart her eyes, which Ginny until this moment had never noticed were such an unusual shade of baby blue, and flattered her pale blond hair. It gave her an almost ethereal quality. She had long ago stopped telling her friend such things though, because such trifle matters as beauty couldn't bother Luna Lovegood.

Luna linked arms with Neville's, who smiled shyly at his escort. Looking at Gin, he said, "You look amazing, Gin."

"Good. I feel like a moron." Ginny said. The costume certainly hadn't been her idea. Then again, she should have known better then to let Hermione pick it out unsupervised. They-Harry, Ron and Hermione- had probably taken her refusal to accompany them to the shop to pick out a costume as a desire not to go to the ball, which to some degree it was, but the decision was also guided but her newly acquired hatred of sales people. But she really didn't want to explain the story that had led her to an innate fear of sales associates to them. Ever since meeting Daisy that day at Hogsmeade she'd thought twice before entering _any _store. "I guess I had better go. I have a job, you know. I suppose you two have already entered the contest?"

They nodded.

"Darn, I have a bet going with Harry to see who can ear the most money by the end of the night."

"Well then off you go, dear."

"See'ya Ginny. Good luck." Neville called.

Dismissing all dark thoughts, she smiled and wandered aimlessly through the crowd of Gryffindors. Oddly enough, even at a party such as this the housed still seemed to stick to their own; only a few outsiders dating a member of another house dared to leave their respective group. Deciding the best place to start would be with the Ravenclaws (all of whom with the exception of Luna, Harry had been avoiding like the plague since the Cho Chang incident), Ginny, with a few polite greetings to her housemates, hurried over towards a group of Ravenclaw girls.

"Hello," She said, slightly unsure of herself, "Would any of you be interested in participating in the costume contest?"

One girl, a pretty brunette, sneered. "As if. Get a life."

Insulted and angered by the thought of losing to Harry, Ginny opened her mouth to retort, when a voice cut her off.

"Ignore her. She's just jealous of Hermione because she didn't make head girl. Michael and I would love to join, though."

Ginny was slightly unnerved when she turned around to face Cho and her most current fling, Ginny's previous boyfriend, Michael Corner. Though it was true she had dumped Michael, it hadn't exactly been a clean break. Awkwardness was bound to ensue whenever they were forced to be together. He smiled hesitantly and she, weakly, returned the gesture.

"Well, umm, gee thanks, Cho." She accepted the two proffered sickles from Michael.

Ironically, Cho ended up being her saving grace. Glancing back at the brunette, Ginny found the girl gapping, open mouthed. The pretty Asian girl was the highest on the Ravenclaw hierarchy, the pinnacle of cool. What she said, apparently, went, because almost immediately every Ravenclaw there formed around her to enter the contest.

Once she finished there, she glanced up at Harry, who was currently draining the pockets of every Hufflepuff in sight. Ron and Hermione, trailed behind. Ron looking vaguely annoyed and not doing much of anything, and Hermione, beaming at Harry's success. Harry saw her, and gave her a very self-satisfied smirked. Ginny, in the spirit of friendly competition, snorted and mouthed "You wish", to which Harry responded by holding up a bulging leather bag filled with what Ginny could only assume to be sickles. She would have responded but Harry was lost in the crowd once again.

Well one thing was certain, and that was that Ginny Weasley had no intention of losing, and that left only one option. Slytherins.

She expected malice, callousness, indifference and all around rudeness. The latter, she got in abundance, but her visit to the dark side was utterly lacking in the formers. In fact the Slytherins met her with surprising eagerness.

"Hello, I was just-" She smiled, waiting for the verbal abuse that never came. At least not in the level she'd expected.

"Oh, I was wondering when you'd _finally _get over here. Honestly." Pansy crinkled her little pug nose and tapped a stiletto-clad foot in impatient irritation. "Well then, are you going to take my money or not?"

Dumbstruck, she accepted the little silver coin form the girl.

"Oh, and Drackie would like to enter too." She offered another coin.

"Oh, no I wouldn't." Draco, looking almost as surprised as Ginny previously had, shook his head. Then, the surprise quickly turned to agitation.

"But wouldn't it be fun?" Pansy said, raising her voice in what she clearly thought was a flirtatious manner.

"No." He answered firmly.

She fluttered her eyelashes. "But I thought-"

"No."

"But-"

"NO." He brought his hand sharply up beneath hers and the coin, sitting in the flat of her palm, flew across the room in a silver arch.

"Hey!" She screeched indignantly.

Seething he said through gritted teeth, "Go. Fetch."

In a fit of humiliation and resentment Pansy stormed away, a swirl of lacy blue robes. Draco didn't follow. Instead, she watched as he crossed the room to the Ravenclaw who had snubbed her, and offered her his hand. In a moment they were out on the dance floor.

Blaise, appearing from somewhere in the background, shook his head.

"Can you believe that?" Ginny asked. "Mad as a hatter on Lollipop Bay."

Blaise quirked an eyebrow but didn't inquire about the unusual phrase.

She turned her glaze back to Blaise only to find that he had been pushed away by a crowd of impatient Slytherins, all waiting to pay to enter the contest. She accepted each with a gracious smile and polite 'Thank You" that would have made her mother proud. They met her graciousness with grunts.

One particularly nasty looking boy grinned maliciously. "Alright," He said, lowering his voice to a scheming whisper, "How much do I have to pay you?"

"Umm…a sickle."

"No, you dolt. How much to win?"

"The contest? I can't-" Taken aback when she finally realized what he was asking, she couldn't think to answer that.

He waved a thick stack of bills in front of her. "Just this once."

"Sorry, I can't. This is for charity and-"

"Screw the sodding house-elves. I want to _win_."

Finally comprehension dawned. The Slytherins, or the majority of them anyway, didn't want to help the house-elves. Probably couldn't care less. They were after the prize money. She stifled a laugh, realizing that the amount of money the boy was offering her would probably a least _double_ the amount he would win if he, indeed, was victorious. Loser.

"Sorry, but you'll just have to compete fairly, like everyone else and hope you win. Though, admittedly, it's unlikely. A bit of advice -keep the mask on. Have a nice evening."

Turning her gaze to the next person in line, she effectively got rid of him. As the boy walked away, Ginny distinctly heard him say to a friend. "Stupid bint. Someone's already paid her off. Bleeding Gryffindors."

When the crowd had passed, she smiled at Blaise who had sat down at a table, patiently awaiting her.

She fluttered her lashed in an imitation of Pansy. "Wouldn't you like to enter, too, Blaisey-Poo?"

She smiled widely and twirled around as a little girl would, letting the skirt swirl around her. At the new discovery that her dress perfect for spinning around in, she did so again, giggling madly as the hem twirled out around her in every direction, almost up to her knees.

"You look drunk." He said, obviously amused.

"They spiked the punch." She replied happily, now spinning little half circles and then quickly changing directions, listening for the satisfying _whoosh _of the material.

"No they didn't. Trust me, I'd know."

"Well that's my excuse and I'm sticking with it." She said, smiling.

"I can't take you anywhere." He said sighing and sounding so much like her father that she had to laugh.

He offered her his hand. She raised an eyebrow. "Well, you look like you need a partner."

She smiled and let him led her to the dance floor. The tune was a quick paced solo by a young Myron Wagtail once lead singer for The Weird Sisters, who had, once again, broken up.

"What are you suppose to be anyway?" Blaise inquired.

"Morgan La Fay." She answered. Morgan, the antagonist from Arthurian legend, had always fascinated her.

"Isn't she…well, evil?"

"Evil is such a strong term. More evil than Snape and slightly less malevolent You-Know-Who, I'd say. She did try to kill Arthur more than once, it that's what you mean, but she also saved his life."

"Type casting?" He asked with a smile.

"Hardly. See, I wasn't exactly involved in the costume selecting process."

He said, "I figured as much."

"Right. So Hermione picked out the whole Arthurian theme. One guess who's Arthur."

"Harry?"

"Who else? Anyway, they at first wanted me to be Guinevere, but considering that Ron was Lancelot that was just…wrong." She paused and shivered. "Anyway, I insisted Hermione take the part while I be Morgan. She was a redhead, you know."

Blaise nodded as she concluded. He wasn't dancing as much as he was watching Ginny bop around with no apparent consideration for the beat of the song.

"You can't dance." He said after a while.

"Sure I can. This is just so much more fun."

"You're crazy."

"I blame it on the punch." She answered.

"What punch?" Colin, arriving at their side, asked.

"Nothing." Blaise answered.

"I was just wondering if I could cut in?" Colin asked.

"Won't your girlfriend mind?"

"Nah. She went to the ladies toilet to 'freshen up' which means she'll be gone at _least _an hour."

"Well, fine but, I think Ginny might get lonely." Blaise smiled and put his arm around Colin's waist.

"Uhg!" Colin cried in disgust, and pushed Blaise's arm off, "Ewww! Ginny! I meant I wanted to dance with _Ginny_!"

The look on Colin's face was so comical that both Blaise and Ginny _had_ to laugh. He was turning a shade of red that Ginny, even in all her redheaded glory, had never quite managed.

When he had gained control over himself, Blaise smiled and presented Ginny with a mock bow. "She's all yours. Watch your toes, though. I'm off to find Padma. As of now, she still refuses to talk to me, but the Zabini charm will win her over eventually."

"Not likely, considering I think she saw you dancing with Colin here. It'll take you weeks to convince everyone that you're not gay." Ginny said.

"Yeah, especially since everyone already thinks Colin's gay." Blaise answered.

"What? I am _not _gay!" Colin cried in outrage.

"Yes, darling, we know that, but the rest of the school doesn't." Ginny said sadly and patted his shoulder.

"But-but-I'm dating a _girl_!" Colin was looking more flustered by the minute. His face was a shade of red that rivaled her hair.

"Yeah, and I heard some guys in common room making bets on how long it would take before you dumped Marian for Justin."

"I-but-I-"

By this time, Ginny couldn't help but laugh at her friends. By the time Colin realized Blaise was kidding he had vanished, leaving a very embarrassed Colin and Ginny having an absolute fit.

"Stop laughing." Colin ordered, sullen.

"We're just having a bit of fun." She chided.

"At my expense." He replied.

"But you're such a good sport." She said with a smile. "Besides, I needed a good laugh."

The concern was apparent in his voice as he said, "Are you thinking about-"

"Dancing." She said, cutting him off. "Isn't that the reason you came over here and endured that verbal beating in the first place?"

Colin, a man of strange interests, liked to swing dance; he had somehow convince Marian to take classes with him in their spare time. Standing nearly a head taller than her escort, swing dancing to alternative rock and wearing a dress taken straight from the fifteen hundreds, she was sure they made for an odd picture, which only proved to make her smile wider. Colin, not really understanding her amusement but encouraged by her smile, spun her outward as she yielded to a fit of giggles. Happily, she spun back into him. Unfortunately it wasn't Colin who caught her.

"What the heck are you doing Weasley?"

"They spiked the punch." She answered without thinking. She looked up to see whom she had crashed into. Draco Malfoy. Why did he always manage to see her every time she did something clumsy? "Ah, I mean-I-"

"You know what? Don't care. Though I am glad I _bumped _into you." She rolled her eyes; bad pun. "Hey, Creevey? Bug off."

Colin looked uncertainly at Ginny. Draco laughed. "What, you think I'm going to take advantage of her in her drunken state?"

"I'm not drunk." She snapped.

"I can change that." He answered, sneering.

"Hey, Malfoy…"Colin tried his best to puff up and look intimidating.

"What? Are you going to fight me?" Draco asked, clearly amused; Colin, small compared to Ginny, was _dwarfed _compared to Malfoy. Ginny slapped Draco on the shoulder just hard enough for a rewarding _thwap_. Not a playful slap, but also not the full out blows he'd received from her before. A warning.

"Look, Creevey, I'm not going to hurt her. I just need to talk to Weaselette for a minute."

Her friend looked doubtful.

"It's okay, Colin. I'll be right back."

"Okay, but stay where I can see you!" Colin yelled at their retreating figures.

Ginny, much to Malfoy's surprise put her hands on his shoulder and led him to a somewhat secluded corner.

"Weasley, I know you find me irresistible, but snogging me senseless in middle of a party hardly seems right. We should at least find a broom closet first."

"That's disgusting."

"Well, pushing me into a dark corner makes one think you're trying to seduce me."

"I say again- that's disgusting.

"Then why, pray tell, have you lead me to said corner?"

"Well you didn't really think I'd trust you enough to follow you off into a dark corner where you could murder me in peace did you? I like it here. Lots of witnesses."

"Don't you think a Malfoy and Weasley talking together will arouse some suspicion?" He asked.

"We're in costume, remember?"

Draco snorted; his silver-blond hair was almost as noticeable as her Weasley-red. The likelihood of them not being recognized was little to none. Besides, dressed in a black shirt and black slacks, the only thing costume-like about his costume was the long cloak and black mask he'd worn to appease Pansy's whining.

"What ever. I needed to talk to you about…you know."

He slid an arm to her neck where the necklace still hung. He seemed to be examining it with great care and Ginny was suddenly very self-conscious.

"Have you found a place?" He asked not removing his eyes from her collarbone.

Unnerved, she jerked away. "What is your fixation with my neck? What, are you a vampire?"

"Yes." He said sarcastically. "And I vant to suck your vlood. Don't change the subject."

"I need a few more days to…make final arrangements."

He looked skeptical. "A few more days?"

"Yes. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Weasley, you forget who you're talking to." He wrapped his fist around the necklace and jerked, pulling her head with it and forcing her to stand on her tiptoes Now that he had her full attention, "_I'm _in control here. If you do anything stupid…"

"Calm down, ferret. I said I needed a few days, so give me a few days."

"Fine. One week and no more. Got that?"

"But I have a match-"

"Got it?" He said, giving another tug on the chain.

"Yeah."

"Good." With something akin to disgust, he released his hold on the trinket and turned away.

"Hey, Malfoy?"

"Yeah?" He barely turned to look at her.

"I thought you might want this back." She tossed a black something across the room and on impulse he caught it. Soft leather met his hands and he realized with a start he was holding his own wallet. "Thank you for your kind contribution to AOHEAP. We appreciate your generosity." She held up a gold coin, a glimmering galleon, before disappearing into the crowd.

* * *

Draco was in a rage. How did she always manage to get the last word? How, when _he_ was supposed to be the one in control did she always find some way to humiliate him? He grit his teeth in agitation. That horrid little bird had some nerve. Pulling out the ring, he fingered it in frustration. 

He had never met someone as…spirited as her before. Glancing at the clock he decided that it was a safe bet that she was asleep already.

Lying down and clenching the ring in his fist he said, "_Entrar Rêve_," and suddenly the world melted away.

* * *

"That was the most exhausting night of my life." Harry said, rubbing his neck. 

"And tomorrow's going to be even longer? You do remember the terms of our bet, right?" Ginny said with a smile.

"Yeah. I still can't believe someone gave you a whole galleon. Who was it?"

"Malfoy." She answered.

"The Amazing Bouncing Ferret? No way!" Ron looked stunned. "How? Why?"

"I threatened him with another bat-bogey hex." She winked.

Ron laughed.

"GinnyWeasley! You had better be kidding." Hermione looked shocked.

"Maybe." Ginny said grinning mischievously.

"Well, I for one am very pleased with tonight's turn out." Hermione beamed. "We made nearly two hundred galleons for the house-elves!"

"Yeah, but Daphne Greengrass?" Ron said. "Why did a Slytherin of all people have to win?"

"Ron, be sensible. We had to judge fairly. Now, I'm off to bed. Night Gin, Harry, Ron." She punctuated Ron's name with a brief kiss before going up stairs.

"Yeah, night guys." Ron said, kissing Ginny on the forehead before going into the boy's dormitory.

Harry, sitting on the couch next to her, said, "Gin, do you want to come and sleep in our room tonight? Just in case the dreams come?"

"Thanks Harry, but I'm okay. See you tomorrow."

As she made her way up the stairs she glanced back at Harry's huddled form and couldn't help notice he looked slightly disappointed. She paused, struck by a thought. Halloween was a hard time for Harry. Her presence had not just been to comfort herself, but also him. Halfway up the stairs she turned.

"Harry? I changed my mind…can I come?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Thanks, I'll just go get my blanket and be right back."

She climbed the remaining stairs and grabbed her sheets off the bed. "Hermione?"

"Geez, Gin. It's night. Go to sleep." Lavender groaned from her bed.

"Sorry."

"Ginny did you need something?" Hermione asked coming out of the bathroom wrapped in a bathrobe.

"Yeah, I'm bunking with the guys tonight. See you in the morning."

"Yeah. Goodnight."

* * *

"_Hello Ginny, darling."_

"_Go away, Voldemort." Her voice was filled with quiet determination. _

_Tom raised an eyebrow. "Voldemort, is it? Why so formal, Virginia?"_

"_Go away. I hate you." She spat. She tried to walk away, but turning she found him in front of her again. "Stop that."_

"_Why? What's wrong, love."_

"_Stop that." _

"_I'm truly hurt. You don't want to see me?"_

"_No. Get away from me."_

"_That hardly seems fair; I haven't done anything to you."_

"_Are you kidding? Haven't hurt me! You-"_

_He sighed exasperatedly. "That again?"_

"_You would have killed me! I'm sorry, but that's the kind of thing people tend to hold grudges about."_

"_I wouldn't have killed you. I need you." He took her hand in his and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. "I'd miss you too much."_

"_You left me bleeding to death in the Chamber! If Harry hadn't come I'd be dead."_

"_Potter." He spat. "Potter came and screwed up my plans."_

"_Of letting me die?"_

"_Geez, woman. Get over that already." He teased with an amused smile. Then he sombered. "As soon as I had killed Harry I was going to bring you back. Stupid git just wouldn't die. I needed his energy for you."_

"_You…you would have killed Harry to…bring me back." She was in a state of shock._

"_He's expendable. You, you I need. You're so powerful, so important to my plans."_

"_You're plans?"_

"_You'll join me and together-"_

"_I'll never join you!" She brought the back of her hand sharply across his face. She raised her hand to hit him again._

"_How dare you!" He grabbed her wrist halfway and pulled her toward him. "How dare you strike me, you wretch!" He slapped her hard across her face. _

"_Stop! Stop, Tom!" Her eyes welled with tears of pain or possibly anger, though he couldn't tell. The word _Tom_ brought him back from his rage._

_As if something had broke inside him, the anger slipped from his eyes as quickly as it had come. His grip on her arms loosened. "I-I'm so sorry Ginny. I'd never hurt you. I just- I just-"_

"_Get away from me. Just get away. I never want to see you again." _

"_But Ginny I-"_

"_Don't say anything. Just stop."_

"_But Ginny I love you."

* * *

_

Draco's eyes flew open. His head felt like it was splitting open and the world was spinning. When his vision finally focused he realized he was staring right into the face of Harry Potter.

"Harry?" The voice was hoarse and groggy, not his own but not unfamiliar to him.

"Wake up. It was just a dream."

Suddenly the world was spinning again and Harry's face disappeared and Draco was left once again in the darkness of his room.

* * *

Harry was standing over her when she woke. Ron, too, was awake and sitting up in his bed. 

"Harry?" She asked.

"Wake up. It was just a dream."

She sat up and sighed. "Sorry I woke you."

"It's alright." Ron said.

"Says who?" Dean asked grumpily from his bed.

"Dean." Ron said in a warning voice.

"Fine." She could hear him roll over in his bed. Then a moment later his sheets rustled again. "Well dash it all, I'm awake now and I can't go back to sleep."

Ron stood and turned the lights on. Ginny could now see that Harry's face was haggard and pale. Obviously he hadn't slept well either.

"Well since we're all up." She glanced at Neville who was still asleep in his bed. Nothing would wake him up. "Who's up for a game of exploding snaps?"

* * *

Sorry to all of you who were holding your breath for D/G action. Not so much in this chapter. I swear that this story will eventually earn its place in the romance catagory. It's coming, I promise!

I love my reviewers! A huge thank you toeveryone. You're better than cookies. Please, please, please review!


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Another rather long chapter. Woohoo! All my reviewers are awesome! You're infiniatly better then cookies. Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: All situations and charecters belong to the amazing J.K. Rowling. The only thing that belongs to me is the plot.

* * *

Draco woke the next morning with a horrible headache. He hadn't been able to go back to sleep after what he had heard last night. Tom was Voldemort. _Tom was Voldemort. _No matter how many times he thought it, it still sounded wrong.

It all made sense now. In his second year, someone- a girl- had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets. Now he knew that girl was Ginny Weasley.

He tried to remember her, how she acted, what she would have looked like in her first year. Small, he remembered that. Even now, though she was roughly average height, she still seemed small. She must have been _tiny _then.

She had also always appeared somehow nervous, almost anxious to him. It made sense now why. She had been under the control of Tom Riddle, future Dark Lord.

He knew it had been a student who opened the Chamber, but somehow he had always assumed it had been someone older then him, maybe a sixth or seventh year. But instead it had been the little Weasley, a first year.

He clenched his fists. True, there was no love lost between the Weasleys and himself, but still, to use an impressionable child was wrong. His father's hand had been in this, he had known that even as a child. Then he had been filled with pride that his father was laying the road for the new rise of the Dark Lord. Now he was filled with an indescribable shame. It almost made him feel guilty enough to go easy on the poor girl. Almost.

* * *

Ginny rubbed her neck. Admittedly, sleeping on the floor and then quidditch practice was a bad combination, but throw in a night in the infirmary and she was about ready to collapse. She hadn't really been in the mood to come, but she had had little homework that night and she knew she probably wouldn't be able to come in again until at least Thursday.

"Long night, Weasel?" Draco sneered. She sighed; she was really not in the mood to deal with him today, yet all day he had been unusually persistent in his ridicule.

"What do you want?" She snapped. Her temper was not something she could always control on the best of days, let alone one like today where she had used the word _sucked _to the point where it lost all meaning.

"Nothing, just thinking I never gave Potter as much credit as he deserved if he's got you this tired. I can't give him points for good taste, though."

"What do you- Oh my gosh, you think I-and Harry- we-" If he was implying what she thought he was implying he was in for a world of pain. "How _dare_ you! How dare you imply that Harry and I…" She trailed off, really, really not wanting to finish the sentence.

"Come on Weasley, stop acting innocent. You were seen entering his bedroom at night and not leaving until morning." He said looking disgusted.

"The bedroom that is also shared by my brother and two other boys." She half yelled.

He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't take you for that kind of girl."

She didn't seem to understand. Then after a second of silence her face lit up with understanding. "Ewww! That's disgusting. Look, I don't know how in the heck you would know this," she knew no one in Gryffindor would say anything that might lead to rumors. "And I certainly don't feel the need to defend myself to you, but I slept on the _floor. _Between Ron and Harry's beds. I…Ron wasn't sleeping well and he wanted someone near him."

"Gee, and I thought it was bad when I thought you were with Potter, but your brother?" He smirked.

"Why must you be such a disgusting pig? Not everything everyone says is dripping with innuendo. How many times can I say this before it gets through your thick skull? I. Don't. Like. Harry. Potter." She paused her rant only briefly for a breath before continuing. "I don't know what your problem is. Did your parents not love you enough when you were a child? Oh wait, I forgot I'm talking to Death Eater, Jr."

"Shut up."

"Your father must be so proud that you're following in his footsteps! And your mother-"

"I said shut up! Leave her out of this!" The outburst was not characterized by his normal cool, self-contained anger, but instead by a visible passion so unlike him that Ginny fell silent. He was panting and a quick look at his hands revealed fists clenched so tightly around his wand that his knuckles had gone white.

For Draco the silence was uncomfortable, especially with the girl staring at him as if she had discovered a new species of particularly loathsome bug.

For a while he was sure that she was just trying to decide what would be the most painful way of disposing of him. But then, the heat of her anger melting away, he saw her eyes soften.

"You really love her don't you? Well who says there's no honor among thieves?" She said, but the question was not harsh, nor was her tone mocking. Instead, it was kind and filled with a gentle sort of wonder.

"She's my mother. And Malfoys are not thieves." He answered defensively.

She frowned. "That doesn't answer the question."

It was his turn to frown. "Of course it does. She's my _mother._"

"You don't talk that way about your father." She stated curtly.

"You're infuriating."

"Merlin, you can't even say it. You can't even say the word love, can you? I pity you."

"I don't need your bleeding pity, weasel."

She shook her head. "I'm leaving."

"It's not time to go." He called after her.

"I'll come back tomorrow," She answered without turning and then she was gone.

Madame Pomfrey's stuck her head in from the next room. "What was all this yelling about?"

"We…Weasley just remembered she had somewhere else to be. She said she was sorry and she'd be in tomorrow to make up the time."

"Oh, well okay. She's really such a dear, responsible child isn't she?"

He rolled his eyes in disgust but the woman didn't notice.

"Oh well, there's really no reason to keep you any longer. You may go, Mr. Malfoy. But don't tell that Professor Snape I let you out early. Quite a stickler for the rules that man." She said, shaking her head before she disappeared again. Before he left, Draco caught just a peek of what she was doing. She was mesmerized by a book whose cover was decorated with a big-busted woman dressed in a tight-fitting corset and a shirtless man. Below the picture in shimmering red letters was printed the title of the book: Naughty, Naughty. He shuddered; some things were just too weird to contemplate.

Homework finished and infirmary shift ended, he went to bed early that night, but couldn't find any peace. Thoughts of the annoying redheaded chit swam through his head.

It certainly wasn't as though he wanted her pity. The very thought of it disgusted him. She was a _Weasley_; her whole _house_ was worth less then his broom. If anything, he should pity _her_.

She had a knack for getting under his skin that topped even that of her maddening older brothers. They at least had been easy to deal with. Insults, threats, and even fighting easily solved conflicts, but with her it was different. She could get inside his head like no one else had managed (or dared) to do with the exception of his closest friends and family. It probably had something to do with those _eyes_.

Blaise had looked at him when he had returned from the infirmary in a strut with that look that he used whenever Draco was being thick. Well, Draco knew what Blaise thought, and he knew he was wrong.

Blaise thought he fancied the littlest Weasley, which of course was ridiculous. He was adult enough to admit she was attractive. Any dolt with eyes could see that, but that certainly didn't mean he liked her. He _loathed_ her. He hated her with the very essence of his being.

True, he didn't wish for her death and humiliation as he did Potter, but that was not any indication of a romantic interest in her.

_Then why, _A voice in his head asked, _were you so relieved when she told you she didn't like Potter?_

_I wasn't_, He answered, but here, alone, in the darkness of the room, he had to confront the fact he had been ignoring all evening.

_Well, _he thought, _maybe just a little, but not because I fancy her. I don't fancy her. _

He justcouldn't have her getting too close to Potter, just in case the Boy Blunder could somehow thwart his plan and remove the necklace. It was extremely unlikely, but Scar Head was a master of dumb luck. After Christmas holiday ended he didn't care what the Weaselette did.

_But until that necklace comes off, _he thought,_ she's mine.

* * *

_

"Hey, Ginny. Can I talk to you?" Harry asked.

"Ah…sure, what is it?"

"I'd just like to thank you for last night." He said. He looked nearly as tired as Ginny felt. Their game of exploding snaps had ended abruptly when Dean burnt off the majority of his left eyebrow. After that the four had entered a rousing game of Wake Neville Up. Only when Ginny finally summoned a pitcher of cold water to dump over the boy's head did he wake from his slumber in a rather foul mood. After they had exhausted their game ideas ("I know a game we can play," Dean said, winking suggestively at Ginny. Harry couldn't decide who was more red, Ginny or her brother.), they had moved on to simply raiding the room for sweets and staying up until nearly four in the morning talking.

Ginny had known she would be tired in the morning, but she didn't want to go back to sleep and she could tell from the look of him, neither did Harry. So she had stayed up, always keeping the group busy.

She smiled brightly at her friend. "You're a great guy, Harry."

"Glad you think so. You mind writing that on all the stalls in the girls' loo?"

She laughed. "You wish Potter."

He sighed. "Well, it was worth a shot."

* * *

"How'd it go guys?" Harry asked hopefully, only half sitting in the bed. He looked over the rest of his mud-splattered team.

The group looked around before Ron finally spoke. "Sorry Harry. We were close though."

Harry's head fell. A day before their match against Ravenclaw he had suffered a slight quidditch injury. Normally Madame Pomfrey would have been able to fix his broken leg in an instant, but it seemed Harry had acquired immunity to the spell.

Needless to say, he was not at all please with being unable to compete in the match but had eventually agreed to stay in bed like a good patient until his leg healed at the insistence of his team.

"Ron was brilliant." Ginny said. "The other team only scored once."

Ron nodded. "Ginny was really the amazing one though. You should have seen her."

Ginny had played as seeker in Harry's absence.

"The substitute Chasers weren't that great and Gin got really ticked. So she flew down and gabbed the quaffle out of the Ravenclaw's hands herself-"

"Nearly knocking the poor kid off his broom." Colin, who had joined them in the hospital added excitedly.

"Yeah and then she threw it straight through the goal." Ron finished.

"I got it all on film!" Colin squealed.

Ginny blushed slightly. Mostly she was just relieved they hadn't felt the need to repeat her exact words ("You do realize that the bloody goal is _that _way? This is a ball. Now get it through the stinking goal!") to Harry.

"Yeah, but Madame Hooch wouldn't let us keep the points." Ginny said.

Technically a player wasn't allowed to touch any ball save they were in pursuit of, and of course, the bludgers if they happened to be hit by one. In grabbing the quaffle, she had broken the rules. But at least she must have had some effect on the chasers because after that they had made four more goals.

"Then I saw the snitch." Ginny said annoyed. "I was closest to it. If my broom had been as fast as hers I would have gotten it way before Cho. Sorry Harry."

"That's all right, Gin." Harry said.

Everyone present started. This was not the reaction anyone had expected from Harry. Ginny, he noticed looked more shocked then the others. Her face was slightly pale and she seemed to be trying to take deep breaths.

He grinned. "Think of it this way, now we play Hufflepuff. There's no way we could lose. On the other hand Slytherin and Ravenclaw have to face off. If we're lucky, they'll kill each other and we'll win by default!"

"And then we'll- Gin what's wrong?" Harry asked, causing everyone to turn. Ginny's faced white and her hand had gone to her neck.

"I'm just…I just realized what time it was. I promised someone I'd meet them." Her voice was harsh and strained.

"Well…okay. You sure you're alright."

"Fine. I got to go. I'll visit you later Harry. Sorry."

"Hey, you're not going to meet a guy are you?" Ron called after her, but she was already gone.

"Well that was weird." Hermione said.

"Yeah."

* * *

"That's okay Gin." Harry said comfortingly. But Ginny's concerns had turned from their quidditch loss to the familiar burning on her chest.

_What now?_ She thought. She breathed deeply, trying to appease the intense pain emanating from the cold gem around her neck.

Harry smiled. "Think of it this way, now we play Hufflepuff. There's no way we could lose. On the other hand Slytherin and Ravenclaw have to face off. If we're lucky, they'll kill each other and we'll win by default."

Ginny couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. Cold, hard wires seemed to be coiled around her chest constricting her lungs. Her whole mind was filled with the insatiable urge to _move_. Invisible ropes were pulling at her, drawing her away from Harry's bed and closer to the door. Closer to Draco Malfoy, she realized with a start. It was Saturday, exactly one week after the ball. She had to talk to him tonight.

"And then we'll- Gin what's wrong?" Harry asked.

She looked up, startled to find everyone's attention had turned to her. Resisting the pull of the necklace was tiring and _painful _and she could feel drops of cold perspiration running down her forehead.She prayed they wouldn't notice.

"I'm just…I just realized what time it was. I promised someone I'd meet them." She tried to be calm but her voice sounded pained even to her own ears.

"Well…okay. You sure you're alright?" Harry looked slightly confused as he said it.

"Fine. I got to go. I'll visit you later Harry. Sorry." He nodded farewell still looking baffled but didn't question her. Thank God for Harry.

"Hey, you're not going to meet a guy are you?" She heard Ron yell as she left but she didn't answer.

Running didn't feel like running. She wasn't aware of her legs moving back and forth beneath her. She didn't know where she was going, but the ropes were pulling her and she knew where they led the pain would end.

Though she moved as fast as her tired legs would carry her, she still felt slow. Then, abruptly, the pain stopped.

She looked around taking in her surroundings. She was in the dungeons and as far as she could tell, she was alone.

"Malfoy?" She called. She heard nothing but her echo and the dreary sound of water dripping onto the cold stone floor.

"Malfoy?" She called again, not liking the silence. For a moment she contemplated the possibility that he actually wasn't there, but then discarded it almost immediately, realizing the throbbing wouldn't have stopped if he were not present.

Her next foolish thought was that maybe the necklace had stopped working. She pulled at the clasp but much to her disappointment the necklace remained closed tightly.

"Malfoy I know you're here. If you don't come out this instant I'll just leave." She called. "I'm counting to three. One… Two…Three… Fine. I-"

From behind her a strong arm grabbed her, pulling her into a corner. "Hey I-"

But she couldn't finish because a hand- presumably belonging to the arm that was wrapped around her waist- was over her mouth silencing her.

"Gees woman, can't you take a hint. Shut up." A voice whispered in her ear. She obliged because short of gnawing off her assailant's hand she really had no other option. She listened for a moment hearing only the sound of the water still dripping obdurately. Then footsteps echoing throughout the hall.

Her attacker, trusting her not to scream, removed his hand and felt her push her body closer to his. Her back was meet by his hard chest and though the thought of contact with his body in any way, shape, or form made her skin crawl, she nestled her body even closer against his so whoever was approaching wouldn't see them.

She waited until the footsteps had pasted and faded out of hearing range before stepping out of her hiding place.

"Why couldn't you just tell me someone was coming, Malfoy?" She yelled, outraged, at the blond as he sauntered out of the corner.

"Well I thought you'd take the hint. Obviously not. Besides, if they recognized our voices it would lead to suspicion." He said, and then lowered his voice. "Now, did you find a place?

"Yes but-"

"Not here." He snapped. "Follow me."

Without waiting for a reply he started off. She followed, grateful for the momentary delay, because what she had to tell him he _really_ wasn't going to like.

* * *

I can't decide whether I like this chaper or not. Itwas justkind of a filler chapter leading into the next one where you all learn (as if you don't already know) where Draco will be staying for Christmas. I knowI didn't touch too much on Draco's feelings about the whole Tom Riddle/ Lord Voldemort thing, but it will definatly come up again. I'm trying to keep all the charecters as 'in charecter' as possible.

Please review with any comments or suggestions. Or just soI know whether people are actually reading this or not. But most of all because reviews make me happy.

The next chappie will come soon, I hope, but swim season is just starting up (shudder) so it might take me longer then usual to update, at least until school ends. But I'll try to write quickly, especially since the next chapter is going to be a lot of fun to write.

Mad Love.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter 19! I'm so proud of myself! This is the longest story I've ever written! Yeah! Okay, enough exclamation points now.

Disclaimer; I own nothing you reconize from the Harry Potter books.

* * *

He moved quickly and never paused to look back at her or make sure she was keeping up. Then again he had the necklace as assurance she wouldn't run away. 

She followed him down the dim corridor until he stopped at a portrait of Salazar Slytherin, scowling at her.

He held up a hand, indicating her to stay where she was. Again, she obeyed. "Purebloods." He muttered and with an audible creak the portrait swung open.

"How original." She murmured. Slytherins never really were a creative lot. Draco poked his head in looked around, and turned back to her. "All clear. Follow me."

The Slytherin common room was beautiful. Everything about it boasted wealth and good taste. The floors, where not covered with lush green carpet, were white marble. She lost all thoughts of being n a dungeon. While the room was chilly, the fire blazing in the large fireplace kept it from being cold. Soft, green armchairs and small tables surrounded the room. It was not at all cold or aloof, as she had imagined it. It actually seemed inviting.

"What's the matter, Weasley?" Draco sneered. "Never been in a room this nice before?"

"No, I just never knew it was possible to have so much green in a room without it imploding."

From outside they heard voices.

"Hurry, come with me." He called and led her to the staircase on the left side of the common room. Unlike the ones in Gryffindor, these led down instead of up. When he reached the door on the very bottom, he murmured a password and it swung open, just as they heard the main portrait rasp.

"That was close." Ginny said.

He nodded. From above them she heard music.

"What are they doing up there?" She asked.

"Having a party." He answered.

"What's the occasion?"

"You don't want to know."

"Yes I do." She said, a little frustrated.

He shook his head and said, "Gryffindor lost."

"Quidditch? But…we weren't even playing Slytherin. Do they do this every time we lose?"

"Basically."

"Lovely. Now is there something you needed to know?" She asked sharply.

"You said you found a place. Where?"

Her face lost some of its edge. "You're not going to like it."

"Where?"

"Remember, I wouldn't be saying this unless I had considered every other option."

"Just tell me where."

"Well…the burrow." She said quickly.

"The what?" He questioned.

"The burr- my house."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"I'm afraid not. I hate- _really hate_- the thought of you being at my house but if you think about it, it's actually one of the safest places you could be. I mean, with Harry there-"

"No way. No way am I spending my Christmas with Weasel Sr_. and_ Potter."

"Well, the way I see it you don't have much of a choice. Look, there will be twenty-four hour guard and no one would ever think to look for you there. You won't like it, but you'll be safe."

He was silent for a moment. "You planned this didn't you?" He asked, but it wasn't an actual accusation. He knew she was almost as displeased with the situation as he was.

"Yes," She answered sarcastically. "What else do I live for if not to spend all day thinking of ways to make Draco Malfoy miserable? I even dream about it at night."

"You dream about me? Oh, kinky. I like it."

"You are such a freak. Do you realize that?"

"Yes, yes I do." He said, looking up at her and licking his lips.

Disgusted, she groaned.

"Listen, I know you want me," He said with a smirk, " but you'll have to get past the fact that I'm irresistibly sexy and we're in a bedroom… at least long enough that we can talk about this."

"Everything's been worked out. All you have to do is come up with an excuse to Daddy Dearest why you aren't coming home for Christmas."

"Simple. I'll tell him Potter and his crew are staying for the holiday and I want to spy on them. If that doesn't work I'll just simply not show up."

"You spy on Harry?"

"He's not the only one." He said, raising his eyebrow suggestively. Suddenly she felt very bare in her soiled quidditch uniform.

"You are such a pervert." She said.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she shifted on her feet and sighed. "How long before they're done?" She asked, pointing upward to the source of the blaring music and cheering.

"Do you goody-goody Gryffs ever have parties?"

She nodded.

"And how long do they normally last?" He asked.

"Oh, Merlin! You mean they'll be up there all night?"

He nodded.

"How am I supposed to get out of here?" She asked.

"Well, you could just walk out." He stated.

"Yeah and have a bunch of gossipy Slytherins see? I can only imagine the rumors. No, not an option. Besides, what happened to 'arousing suspicion'?"

"Well then, Weasley, looks like you're spending the night."

"Are you serious?"

"I don't kid bout spending the night." He said solemnly.

"I can't stay here! Is this some plan for ultimate revenge? Some, sick twisted plot to ruin my life?"

"Despite what you may think, Weasley, I do have better things to do then torment you. The world doesn't revolve around you."

"That's great coming from a guy who cries when he runs out of hair gel."

"Hey! I do not cry."

"So true. It's more a whimper, really." Commented his mirror. He glared menacingly at it.

"Do you want me to throw the hairbrush again?" He snapped. "I swear I'll kill the man who invented enchanted mirrors."

Ginny sighed. She really wasn't seeing any other option. If she walked out it was impossible to depart without at least a dozen Slytherins seeing her. That was sure to led to gossip of what exactly she and the infamous Slytherin Prince were doing alone with the doors locked. Of course, Hogwarts's smarter population they would realize that there was no possibility that a Malfoy and a Weasley were engaging in any inappropriate activities. And that would led to a lot of questions she would really didn't want to (or in some cases couldn't) answer.

"Fine." She said eventually, moving to sit down in the wooden chair near his bed.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Uhh…sitting down."

"No you're not." He said, kicking the chair away.

She glared.

"Well look at yourself." He commanded and gestured to the mirror.

She was mud splattered and wet; it had rained during the match. Not enough to be called a storm, but defiantly enough to ensure every player was now wet and dirty. Her hair was tangled and flying in all directions.

She felt stupid, standing in the lovely room dressed like a bum.

"You _do_ look rather pitiful, don't you dear?" The mirror said kindly.

Malfoy grinned. "I'm starting to like this thing more and more." He said.

"I can't stand all night." She said looking rather annoyed.

When he didn't answer she crossed the room and knelt beside a large wooden chest. She opened the lid (adorned by a small gold plate that read 'Zabini') and began rummaging through its contents.

"What do you think you're doing?" He asked.

"Getting clothes." She snapped, standing back up holding a pair of cotton shorts and a T-shirt that was clearly too big for her. Even in perfect condition the quidditch robe would have been uncomfortable to sleep in. The bulky knee and shoulder pads where irritating and awkward and the stretchy material was all together too clingy for Ginny's tastes. "I assume you have a shower?"

He pointed. As head boy, his was the nicest room in the dormitory and had it's own bathroom.

"Good." She went to the small room he had indicated as the shower, paused, and turned to look at him.

"What?" He asked, annoyed. "You think I'll look in on you? I'm not that desperate. _No one's_ that desperate."

She glared at him and closed the door. He was positive he heard her whisper a locking charm as it shut.

She seemed to take forever in the shower. When the sound of running water finally stopped (encouraged by his incessant pounding on the door), it took what seemed like another eternality for her to finally emerge. When she did, she looked much more comfortable. At least as comfortable as she could be considering she was in the bedroom of Draco Malfoy. The t-shirt, a plain white Chudley Cannons shirt, was at least five sizes too big for her and reached at least halfway down her thighs. The tips of her black shorts barely peeked out from below its hem.

"Finally." He said, trying not to think about how lovely her bare cream legs looked, because even if she _was_ a Weasley there was still a pretty girl in his bedroom and he was still a teenager.

He brushed past her and into the bathroom. Less then five minutes later, he emerged wearing green satin pajamas pants and a matching shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chest. With one hand he was drying his hair with a towel. The other, too, contained a towel.

"Weasley? Why was this covering the mirror?"

"I don't like mirrors." She said, blushing and looking pointedly at the enchanted mirror hanging on his wall. "I kept feeling like it was _looking_ at me."

He rolled his eyes. "The bathroom mirrors aren't enchanted."

"Oh." She said as she watched him discard the towels carelessly on the floor. He sat down on the bed and suddenly something occurred to her. She looked from his side of the room to Blaise's side.

"Where's Blaise?" She asked.

"He and Toby Blackwell both have a thing for one of the Patil girls…I forget which one. Anyway, at first he went over there to decide once and for all who would have the honor of following her around like a puppy and getting publicly humiliated. Then they got over their differences and moved on to more productive topics. Like how to talk her into a threesome."

"Eww! Eww! Eww! Are you serious!"

"I know it's in your genes, but please try to resist the urge to be the worlds biggest git. Blaise and Blackwell are potions partners. They're working on some extra credit work so Snape doesn't have to kick Toby out of the advanced class. They'll be there all night."

"Okay…what I actually meant by that was where is Blasie's _bed_?" She asked, because indeed there was only one bed in the room. "Unless…is there something he's not telling me? Because that would explain a lot. Your hair style for one."

"I am NOT gay! And there is nothing wrong with my hair either."

"Well, you must admit it _is _a little…how should I put this…well, _pretty_." The mirror said.

"Arg!" He picked up his hairbrush and hurled it across the room, smashing the mirror. It shattered loudly but even as the pieces fell to the ground, disappearing halfway, new pieces appeared and after only a moment the mirror looked completely unscathed.

"Hey!" It exclaimed.

"You deserved it." Draco told it sullenly.

"It didn't even hurt you." Ginny pointed out.

She was sure if the mirror had had eyes it would have been glaring. "Yes, but it's very traumatic. How would you like it if I hurled a brush at you?"

"Point taken. I'm sorry." She said, shaking her head sadly.

"Hmph." It snorted.

Draco, she noted, was closely examining his hair.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the most conceited of them all?" She asked, but the mirror, the perfect reflection of its owner, was pouting too and didn't reply.

"While this has all been very fun, I still want to know where the other bed is."

Slytherin rooms were known as the only ones that didn't house four students. One reason being the little dungeon rooms were too small to hold four and also because the teachers were probably worried that if four Slytherins were put together and expected to get along the world as it was would end.

"Blaise took it with him." Draco said dismissively.

"He…"

"Took. It. With. Him." He pronounced it all very slowly as if she were dumb while never taking his eyes off his reflection.

"Come on, Narcissus, pay attention."

"What?" He asked.

"Never mind. Now…he took the bed with him?"

"How many times do we have to go through this?"

"Well if you would explain maybe I wouldn't have to stand here asking the same question over and over."

"He shrunk the bed and took it with him."

"Why didn't he just sleep on the floor?" She asked. Malfoy stared blankly at her. "Oh, right. Stupid question."

He sat down on the bed and patted next to him. "Don't worry," He said, smirking, "I can share."

"Share? No way. It's your fault I'm stuck here. I get the bed."

"I don't think so." He said.

"Want to bet? _Wingardium Leviosa!_" She called and he found he was being lifted off the bed. She deposited him on the couch.

"Hey-"

"Do you really want to be on the receiving end of my bat-boogey hex?" She asked. He shivered, having seen he perform the curse on a particularly nasty fourth year who had been hazing a younger Hufflepuff. The experience was not one he wished to reenact first hand.

"Mmmm…soft." She said lying down. She then tossed him a blanket.

"Enjoy it. I'll have to burn the sheets. Can I at least have my pillow?" He whined.

She tossed it to him. Frowning, he threw it back.

"That is not my pillow." He said annoyed.

She threw him another one.

"Still not my pillow." He said.

She held up yet a third.

"Nope, not it."

"Well if you didn't have so many bleeding pillows I could find it! Come and get it yourself."

He walked over to the bed, leaned down over her until his body was so close to hers that he could feel her warm breath on his face. He heard her breath in sharply and with a smirk, leaned just a bit farther down, satisfied when she shivered.

"Cold, Weasley?"

"Yes. It's freezing down here." She said.

Only inches separating their faces he smirked again. "I know a way we could keep warm. And by the way," He said sweetly, "You're on my pillow." and before she could have time to react, he jerked the silk clad cushion from below her head.

Snickering, he returned to the couch.

"Jerk!" She cried and threw another pillow, hitting him square in the face. He turned and glared and despite herself, Ginny giggled. She couldn't help it. No matter how hard he glowered, he just couldn't look intimidating in pajamas.

He looked moderately put out but didn't reply. She slid underneath the covers and fluffed the remaining pillows, trying to find a comfortable position.

"Going to bed?" He asked, sounding mildly surprised.

"Yes. Sleepy." She answered.

"But it's only ten o'clock!" He said.

"Late."

"Are you kidding me?" He asked.

"Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise." She replied groggily.

"And now we know why Benjamin Franklin never had kids."

"Goodnight, Malfoy. Oh, and if you get any ideas, I swear you'll wake up missing some very vital bpdy parts."

* * *

_Lilacs. The whole room smelled of lilacs. The fragrance filled her nose and the intensity of it left her head spinning. It was intoxicating. She took a deep breath, savoring the sweetness of it. Suddenly, she found herself being lifted off the ground by two strong arms. She was cradled tightly against a man's chest and the feeling of his steady breath rocking her body like the ocean was comforting. She sighed, contented, and leaned closer against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Again, she breathed in deeply and over the fragrance of lilacs she smelt the strong, clean scent of soap and a vaguely familiar aroma that was distinctly male. She couldn't place it, but it was so familiar…she jumped back with a start and looked into the face of her companion. Tom._

"_Put me down." She ordered, beating her fists against his chest._

_He laughed, even as she continued her assault. "So fickle, darling? And here I thought it was going rather well."_

"_Let. Me. GO." She yelled, letting her voice raise an octave on each word._

"_But we're not there yet." He said grinning down at here as though he couldn't even feel the blows. "Now, close your eyes."_

_The world went dark and, feeling utterly betrayed, she realized her body had obeyed. She knew she wasn't in control anymore. This was Tom's realm. _

"_Open them," He ordered softly, setting her down. Despite herself, she gasped. The round bed he had set her down on was soft, molding to every curve of her body. As if in some child's fantasy world, it was placed on a pedestal of white marble and surrounded by a sheer curtain, smooth and thin as silk. Everywhere was lilacs. _

_With a smile at her reaction, he pulled away the canopy to give her a better view of what lay beyond her perch. A clear blue lake, shimmering like sapphires in the bright sun, greeted her. Weeping willows, graceful branches hanging in dignified arcs, covered the shoreline. Sea gulls called merrily to her from above. _

_The clouds were tinted pink as the first sings of sunset approached. It was truly, without a doubt, the most beautiful place she had ever seen. _

"_Do you like it?" He asked, his voice filled with a hint of boyishness. "The lilacs, are they still you're favorite?"_

_Wordlessly, she nodded._

"_Good. I had hoped you would. I made it just for you- for us."_

_She stared up at him, startled. "What?"_

"_This- and so much more- can be yours if you just join me." His voiced was strained with what sounded like earnest longing. He took her small hand in his. "It's the only way we can be together."_

_She couldn't stand those eyes looking at her. Those eyes once so filled with concern and caring, looked upon so trustingly, now only filled her heart with coldness. She laughed spitefully, surprising even herself at how cold and bitter she sounded._

"_Never. Tom, do you know what you have become now? You're not even a fraction of what you once were. You aren't even really _alive_. It's only a matter of time before Harry destroys you. You're just a memory now. "_

"_Wench!" He cried, jumping with catlike grace to her side. Horrified, she scrambled to her seat, slipping on the smooth sheets. "Horrid wretched slut! How dare you!" She had untangled herself enough to stand but tripping over the sheer canopy she fell to the ground. He closed in on her, like a vulture, rushing to its fallen prey. With one sturdy arm he pinned her shoulders against the cold marble floor. The other hand wrapped around her neck so tightly she couldn't breath. _

"_You will join me and I will _win_. There's nothing you or anyone can do to stop me."_

_Though the effort to speech burned her throat she managed to croak, "You've… already…lost…" Her eyes closed, the last of her breath escaping her lungs, and accepted the darkness that was closing in on her._

_Then with a great crash, Tom's arms were pushed away. She inhaled as deeply as her bruised lungs would allow, savoring the sweetness of the air. She didn't bother to open her eyes, until she felt herself being lifted up again. Her eyes fluttered open lonely a moment. But before the world dimmed again, she saw a brief glimpse of silver and a new scent, one that smelled like cinnamon.

* * *

_

Yes! The long-awaited announcement of where he'll be staying! (As if you didn't already know)

Narcissus, if you didn't know, is a charecter from greek mythology who was so handsome (and conceited) that when he saw his reflection he fell in love with it and wasted away.

Thank you to all my reviewers from the last chapter. You're great.

Please, please, please review! I love your input!


	20. Chapter Twenty

HI guys! I'm soooooo sorry it took so long to update doddges rotton fruit, but everythings been really hectic lately. At least it's a long chapter, right? That counts for something, right? Right? Okay...anyway, I'll try and get the next chapter out a lot faster!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the charecters or settings from Harry Potter. I am only a poor, poor, armadillo-loving author so don't sue me.

* * *

Draco woke to the sounds of screaming. It took him a moment to realize the screams were coming from _outside_ the room. He looked around and Weasley was nowhere to be found. For a moment he panicked until he saw, stellotaped to the door, a small scrape of parchment.

_Sorry, _it read, _I couldn't resist._

So she had already left then. He took a brief look around his room and everything seemed to be in order. The shorts and T- shirt she had worn were folded neatly and stacked on top of Blaise's trunk.

He grabbed a towel and headed for the shower, confident that whatever she had done was the cause of the ruckus. And if he knew her at all, he was sure it would still be there after he showered.

And he was right.

When he emerged from his room, dressed and showered, it was immediately obvious what form her trickery had taken. The once dignified room was now a mockery. The floors had been covered in a shag carpet in a ridiculous shade of red. The comfortable chairs had all been changed into an awful shade of bright yellow. Banners (still in red and yellow) of a rather comical snake sticking its tongue out with the mantra 'I know you are, but what am I?' written across the bottom adorned the walls. Looking down at his robes he discovered that the Slytherin crest there, too, had been changed. Not a single hint of green remained in the entire room.

"Well," He murmured. "Looks like someone's recovering just fine."

"Draco! Draco! Have you seen this?" Pansy's shrill voice cried out. "Do you see this?"

"See what?" He asked calmly.

"This!" She said, throwing her arm out widely to gesture to the décor.

"No, I hadn't noticed."

For a minute she stared at him in disbelief, then, slowly, she realized it had been sarcasm.

"Really Draco, your sense of humor rears its ugly head at the most inappropriate times. Look what those horrid little Gryffindors did to our lovely room!"

"You know," Blaise said. "It wasn't necessarily Gryffindor that did this."

"Are you mad? Of course it was them. Why else would it be in these awful colors?"

"Maybe because Slytherin hates Gryffindor. Whoever this was clearly wanted to make an impression. They knew that if they decorated our house in Gryffindor colors, we'd be livid. It could have been anyone. Putting up yellow and black or even blue and silver just wouldn't have had the same affect. Or, going out a limb, Gryffindor could have been framed."

"So…so, it could have been anyone." Pansy said.

"Exactly." Blaise answered.

"But then who-who do we…" She sat down, obviously she couldn't decide whom she should punish for this and the stress was driving her crazy. When she knew with whom the fault laid, it was easy enough. A few hexes would keep them miserable for weeks, but this was harder. It was downright psychological warfare in her opinion. Draco looked from her, face screwed up in concentration, to Blaise, who was fighting very hard not to laugh.

"Well," Draco said, " Isn't someone going to take it down?"

The worst part of it was Gryffindors had no fashion sense. Red and yellow clashed horribly.

"We can't." Blaise said. "No matter what we try it won't change back."

"Even Snape came down and had a go at it." Pansy said. "Finally he gave up. He said it would have to wear off."

"How long will that take?"

"Don't know." Blaise answered. "Let's go, Draco. Snape will have us strung up by our toes if we're tardy. Again."

"How many times must I tell you Blaise, it's not tardy? It's fashionably late."

Blaise half pushed him out of the door. Once in the hall he started laughing.

"How'd she do it?" Blaise asked through his laughter.

"Who?"

"Ginny. How'd she get everything to change?"

"Weasley? What makes you think it was her?"

"Oh come on. This has her name written all over it. How did she manage it all?"

"I don't bloody well know. Ask her."

"You don't know? Hmm…I thought maybe it was you who let her in."

"Why the heck would I do that?" Draco yelled.

"Don't get all defensive." He smiled. "You have to admit, it was pretty clever wasn't it?"

"Sure. Clever indeed."

Blaise watched his friend walk away, not bringing up the fact that he had a t-shirt and a pair of shorts on the top of his trunk that had not been there when he left. A t-shirt that now smelled distinctly like vanilla…

* * *

When he showed up to potions she wasn't there. By his Magical healing class she still hadn't shown up. She made a brief appearance to dinner, staying only long enough to scoop some food unto her plate and vanish again. He noticed that even inside where it was warm and dry she wore her scarf. Annoyed, he found himself wondering if there was something wrong. 

_Darn it Draco_, He thought annoyed, _you had to do it. You just had to go soft didn't you?_

A small part of him was glad she hadn't shown up for classes because he wasn't sure that he would be able to act natural around her.

He had acted based on emotions. How many times had he been told as a child never to act on emotions? Thousands- perhaps millions. And yet he had done it anyway.

_You were just being a decent human being. Nothing wrong with that._

_Decent, _another part of his head thought, _as if any thoughts you were having were _decent.

He smirked a bit, remembering how limp her body had been in his arms.

_Decent! _He reminded himself.

_Flashback_

_She looked so helpless, lying there, the life slowly draining out of her. Of course, he realized it was just a dream and therefore it could not really hurt her, but still the sight was killing him. _

"_You've…already…lost…" She managed and that was the breaking point. _

_Not wanting to but unable to stop himself, he sprang up and pushed Tom off of her. Landing painfully on the hard marble ground, he rolled to face Ginny's assailant. The boy was huddled on the ground. He stood and with one cold, hate-filled glare in Draco's direction, disappeared. _

_Draco picked her up, marveling at how light she was, with every intention of putting her back on the bed. But before he could reach it the familiar pulling sensation informed him the dream was over and the scene faded from his view. _

She was the first thing he saw when his eyes opened. Immediately remembering himself he closed his eyes and listened; it would look suspicious if he woke at the same time as her. Hearing nothing, he slit his eyes open. On the bed, she wasn't moving.

His eyes flew open and he pushed away the blanket. Carefully, he climbed onto the bed, checking for a pulse. It was slightly quickened, but steady. She had kicked away the cover and the pillows were in disarray. Not thinking about what he was doing, he climbed closer to her and let her head rest against his shoulder. After a while, he closed his eyes and dozed off to sleep.

Her stirring next to him was what woke him. She rolled over once, twice, before slowly opening her eyes.

Her emerald eyes widened in surprise and terror, but she didn't scream. "Well, good morning to you to, sweetheart."

"I-"Her voice sounded hoarse.

"Here." He took out his wand, pointed it at her, and whispered a painkilling spell.

"What do you think you're doing?" She asked. Almost immediately he regretted giving her the spell.

"You didn't look like you were sleeping well." He answered simply.

"Oh right." She said. "So you just decided to come comfort me? Get off or so help me I'll blast your balls off." She shoved him off the bed, brandishing her wand, and he suppressed a smirk.

"You wouldn't know the spell." He said. She raised her wand menacingly and for a moment he was afraid she would make good her threat, but instead she simply said, "Aquarious!"

Nothing happened.

She repeated herself several times, abandoning any actual form and simply beating her wand around wildly as if she were conducting a demented version of 'Flight of the Bumblebee'. Transfiguration was definitely _not _her best subject.

"Here." He said. "Aquarious."

A glass of water appeared in his hand. He offered it to her and with a scowl she accepted it. As he gave it to her their fingers touched.

She rubbed at her skin. "Now I have to go shower."

"Do I turn you on that much?" He asked, grinning up at her from where he still lay on the floor.

"Eww!"

This time he did smirk. "I always knew you'd end up spending the night sometime."

"You're a pig."

"You know what they say about those who lay with pigs…"

He paused to look at her for a moment "I really am sorry about this." He said.

She opened her mouth to question him, but before she could form the words her eyes rolled back. For a brief second, her muscles convulsed before her head lolled back and her body went limp.

He stared for a moment. "Weasley?"

No response.

Smirking, he asked. "What's your full name?"

"Virginia Anne Louise Weasley." Her voice sounded strained and her eyes never opened. For minute he stared. It was strange talking to her like this. Her eyes were closed and to all the world she appeared asleep. Her voice, normally so animated and full of emotion, was now flat and impassive.

"Does this hurt?" He asked, vaguely concerned that the truth serum he had slipped into her drink would cause her pain. Truth spells he was very familiar with, but he had never used this particular one before.

She shook her head, the rest of her body strangely still. "It's uncomfortable though."

"I need you to tell me everything about Tom- who is he?"

"Voldemort."

"I don't understand how that's possible. Explain."

"He preserved himself in a diary, to give himself a second chance at immortality should he fail in the future. Then, in my first year-"

"Lucius gave you the book." He finished. He recalled now, the first dream he had visited, wondering why she could possibly be so afraid of a book.

She nodded. "At first I thought it was just a diary. Then it wrote back. I started telling him all my secrets, everything about myself."

"So you opened the Chamber…. how?"

"I…I don't know. I can't remember. He…took over…and I-I can't remember."

"So what does he want with you now?" He asked. He had grown up in the shadow of Voldemort and his followers all his life. There had to be a reason that he would take such an interest in the girl. Maybe he hoped to get information about the Order from her. That of course, Draco knew, was futile. Everyone knew they were very strict about age minimums for their members. Besides, he had seen the many older Weasels in protective mode. There was no way that anyone would tell Ginny of all people any information that would put her in danger. Yet somehow it seemed like something the Dark Lord would try. He had a tendency to come up with stupid plans.

"I don't know." She answered.

The silence that followed was eerie. It was broken only when she stirred slightly and he realized the truth serum must have been wearing off.

"Hey, Weasley," He said, unable to resist, "You don't really think my hair makes me look gay do you?"

But she didn't answer; instead she rolled over onto her back.

"What time is it?" She grumbled.

"Don't worry. Go back to sleep." He told her, not that she had much of a choice considering how much sleeping draught he'd put in her drink.

He leaned over and pulled the blanket up to cover her. She grabbed his hand.

"No, Tom…"

"He won't hurt you."

"Hurts." She said.

"I won't let him. Go to sleep."

Her eyes were squeezed tightly closed and it looked as though she'd turn away. Then she stopped.

"Cinnamon." She murmured. She sunk back onto the pillows, but didn't release his hand.

"Goodnight." He whispered when he thought she was asleep. But then she said one last thing.

"Promise you'll be here when I wake up?"

"Of course." He answered. After all, she still had his hand.

He waited until her breath became slow and even again. He paused a minute longer then necessary, just to be sure she was really asleep this time.

"Weasley?" No response. "…Ginny?"

She stirred slightly but didn't wake up.

"Sorry, love, but I can't have you remembering this now can I?"

She cringed slightly as he preformed the memory charm and then was still.

* * *

Potionsthe nextday was particularly miserable. Normally, being an avid student, he had no qualms about that class, but today the whole house of Slytherin was in a foul mood. They had hoped to keep the embarrassing state of their common room a secret,but that had been impossible due to the factthat the transfiguration of the Slytherin crests on their uniforms was not limited to the common room as every other aspect of the curse seemed to be. And it _still_hadn't worn off. 

One thing was certain: Ginny Weasley would pay for this. No one jeopardized Draco Malfoy's pride as she had done. And by defiling the heart of the Slytherin house, she had knowingly or not, thrown down a gauntlet that could not simply be ignored.

But of course that would have to wait until after he'd figured everything else out first. Something very odd was going on with the Weasley girl. Something much bigger, he suspected, then she could even guess.

His thoughts were interrupted by a large crash from outside the classroom.

"HOLY FREAKING MUFFINS!"

Draco smirked as Ginny walked in the door in complete disarray. Her always-wild hair was now even more disastrous then normal, flying in all directions. Her uniform was wrinkled and askew as though she had just thrown them on. As she staggered in she was still putting on her right shoe and appeared to be missing a sock. If her ragged attire hadn't given away her exhaustion, the look on her face would have. She was pale- more so than usual- and her eyes were surrounded by dark black circles.

"Okay, right outside the door? Yeah, not a good place for a gargoyle." She said, looking annoyed. Snape however, was more then annoyed. He was furious. She was nearly half an hour late.

"Ms. Weasley? Can you please explain to me why you are late?" His voice was startling calm.

At the way her face darkened, Draco was sure Snape had just asked the wrong question.

"You wanna know why I'm late? First I had to stay up all night finishing a stupid report for this class. I WROTE A WHOLE FREAKING PAPER. Which would be great if the stupid idiots in Gryffindor hadn't decided to play exploding snaps right by all my stuff! Look at my book!" She held up what had once been a book, the cover was charred and black and the majority of the pages were singed. Her paper, she explained, had suffered the same fate.

"So I spent the whole morning in the library doing the paper. I was _supposed_ to be finishing the REST of the homework I couldn't do because of the stupid paper! Do you know how boring goat's tongues are?"

Snape opened his mouth to reply, but she wasn't finished.

"And because I was in the library I missed breakfast. Which would have been bad enough but oh, no, it gets worse. Peeves was in the hall singing some ridicules song and I couldn't get by, and I had to eat and I had to get the paper and I had…I had…" She didn't seem to know what to say. She sat down on the ground in the manner of a five year-old.

"This is all your fault you greasy-haired git." She murmured. For a moment Draco thought she was talking about Snape before he realized her glare was directed at him. He suspected her current state had more to do with a certain raven-haired Dark Lord and night spent in enemy territory than any essay.

Snape, however didn't seem to notice that. "What did you call me?" He roared.

"Nothing I can repeat in good company." She replied.

"MISS WEASLEY, I-"

"Don't you yell at me!" She said, "I had a really, REALLY bad day and I don't need you yelling at me!"

"It's not my fault you didn't do your assignment-"

She reddened, not from embarrassment, but from anger. "I did the FREAKING paper. It's right here!" She pulled out her parchment and waved it wildly around. "Do you know what the ten healing properties of goat's tongue are? I do." Then, crossing her arms she said. "Goat tongue is used to purify the liver and spleen."

"Miss Weasley-"

"It can be used to help relieve the effects of poisoning from many natural poisons when boiled with dragon's breath. It can also be used as a source of vitamin A and B. When mixed with eucalyptus leaves it-"

"Miss Weasley-"

She continued, ignoring all Professor Snape's attempts to stop her.

"Mr. Zabini?" Snape asked finally.

"Goat's tongue is commonly used in sobering potions and as a neutralizer in unstable mixtures." Ginny said, frowning.

"Aren't you friends with her?" The professor asked.

Blaise nodded.

"However when mixed with powdered beetles it becomes explosive." Ginny continued.

"Is there any way to shut her up?"

Blaise stood and walked over to Ginny.

"Goat's tongue is boring." She said as greeting. "And when added to a polyjuice potion it turns green and fizzes. I want to find out why it does that."

"Doesn't anybody know?" He asked kindly. The best thing to do when she was in a mood like this was humor her, unless you wanted to be the proud recipient of an infamous Weasley breakdown.

"Nope. Nobody's been stupid enough to try it. Someday I'll find out why it does that." She said.

"I'm sure you will. Bad day?"

"The worst. Tell you 'bout it later. Did you know goat's tongue supposedly has a bitter taste to it? Who would be stupid enough to _eat _a goat's _tongue_? Or any other part of a goat for that matter?"

"I don't know. One of the great mysteries of the universe. Now, as amusing as it was to what you have an emotional breakdown in the middle of class, what's it going take to get you to stop this?"

"Pie." She said. "I want pie."

"Fine." He said with a glance towards Professor Snape who snorted, but obligingly summoned a piece of pie and gave it to Blaise. After all, every physiology book he had ever read said you were supposed to indulge lunatics.

"Goat's tongue is used to fight infections of the lungs." She said shyly.

"No." Blaise said, holding the plate just out of her reach. "One more fact about goats and you don't get your pie."

"Fine." She said, reaching for the pie. He handed the plate over to her and watched as she scooped off all the whipped cream and ate it in one bite. When she swallowed, she grinned brightly. "Want my pie?" She asked Blaise, returning the plate to him.

"Are you kidding me?" Someone asked.

She glared. "Pie is not a joking matter."

She stood, wiped of her robes and took her seat as though nothing had happened.

Blaise smiled and handed the plate back to the Professor, who was openly gaping.

"She doesn't like pie." He explained.

"Then why…why did she…"

"Whipped cream. She wanted the whipped cream."

"Then why didn't she just ask for whipped cream?" He asked, completely baffled. In all his years of teaching he'd never had a student behave like she had acted this morning. She was clearly delusional.

"'Cause then you don't get all the yummy pie flavor." She said.

"I swear you're a five year-old. Where's Colin?" Blaise asked. "It was his turn to watch you today."

"I resent that." She said. "I can take care of myself."

Blaise snorted. "Hence this little demonstration?"

"Today was an exception. I didn't have my coffee." She said.

Professor Snape, having finally regained control of the classroom was opening his mouth to deliver a rant that would no doubt have been the equivalent of sliding down a banister of broken glass and landing in a pool of malnourished piranhas, was fortunately cut short by the bell. Ginny got up, followed closely by Blaise, and walked, unabashed, out of the door, leaving the rest of the class, including her rather incensed professor, gawking. After a moment of awkward silence, her bright red head popped back into view from the doorway.

"Oh, and I suppose I'll have detention tonight? After dinner?" She asked.

Snape merely nodded.

* * *

Whew! Finally finished! Umm...I don't like this chapter as much as I like the others. It's kinda strange, but whatever. 

I want to give a HUGE thank you to all my reviewers. I check my mail like ten times a day just looking for reviews. Pathetic, I know, but highly entertaining.

Please, please, please, review! For a cookie? For pie? licks lips umm...pie.


	21. Chapter TwentyOne

Wow...I took forever to update! Sorry! I haven't abandoned you. (Draco: Despite our pleading). Umm...I'm afaid to say this chapter isn't very good. It's kinda the result of two weeks off and on writing. I think it's a little...disjointed, but that's just me. It's also kind of a weird chapter...Anyway, school just let out so I promise the next chapter will be longer and come soner (and not suck, hopefully).

Just another note, I found out Ginny's full name about a week after I first started writting this fic. I do know her name is really Ginevra, I just didn't feel like changing it, becauseI think Virgina's prettier (and because I'm too lazy to go back and change it every time).

Disclaimer; I am J.K Rowling. I own Harry Potter. Everyone out there writting fanfiction is just wasting their time. (Anyone buying this? Anyone? Didn't think so.)

* * *

"Hey, what was with you today? Is everything all right?" 

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just had a bad morning."

"A bad morning? You expect me to believe that's all that's been bothering you?"

"Nothing's bothering me, Blaise." Ginny said, all at once annoyed and touched by his concern.

"Listen, I know you Ginny Weasley, and I've seen your freak outs before. There are multiply levels of insanity."

Ginny looked at him questioningly.

"See, I like to rate them on a scale of one to ten. One being hexing anyone you see and forcing them to sing really bad show tunes for an hour, and ten resulting in an extended visit to the hospital wing. Reverting back to age five and begging for pie ranks pretty high up there."

"I'm just tired, okay?"

He looked at her. Why was it that all the sudden his friends were all keeping secrets from him? He sighed. "Okay, Gin. But if you ever want to talk…"

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "You're way too sweet to be in Slytherin."

* * *

Draco sat fingering the letter. He should have been more relieved, happier, but something was wrong. His initial relief when a black and white owl had delivered his mother's reply had been replaced by a subtle, but constant nagging feeling that something was amiss. The feeling had only become more concrete as he had reread her note. He sighed. There was nothing in the letter that should give him such a profound sense of _wrongness, _and yet it was there. Folding the parchment carefully he placed it under his pillow. He was probably so used to the idea of being paranoid that normalcy had become foreign to him. 

He smirked. At least tonight's endeavor would take his mind off things. Draco had planned to seek revenge at a later date, but how could he refuse what was given to him so conveniently? There was almost ten minutes before her detention started. His smirk broadened as he sat down in Professor Snape's large, wooden chair, propped his legs up on the desk and just pictured what her reaction would be when she found that he was the one supervising her detention.

He had been brooding on the idea all day, and it had become more and more appealing every moment. He had almost given up the idea-because despite all its allure there was no way to go about getting alone with her without rising suspicions- when Snape had asked him if he could oversee detentions for the night. His excuse was that he had to run into town for some potion ingredients, but Draco was fairly sure Snape's motives were the same-or at least vaguely similar- to his own. Revenge. Slytherins were, as a whole, a very vindictive lot and Draco was pretty sure the professor had a few guesses as to who was behind the prank in the common room.

A slight, expected crash announced her presence moments later. She couldn't exactly be called graceful. He heard the distant sound of laughter accompanied by Creevey 's gratingly high voice.

"Ron almost had a heart attack when I told him you had detention with Snape. Apparently he's afraid that he'll drag you into a dark corner and have his way with you."

Draco couldn't see her, but he was almost sure she winced.

"I'm in a very bad mental place right now," He heard her say, "And it's entirely your fault. Besides, Snape may be a git, but that hardly makes him evil."

"No." Colin said. "That tattoo on his arm is purely decorative. In fact, he's thinking of getting another one. Maybe one with a big heart and _Mom _written on it."

Ginny laughed. "He's not that bad. At least…I don't think he is. Sometimes…"

"Sometimes what, Gin?"

"Nothing. We're here."

"Want me to go in with you." He asked quietly, opening the door for her.

"Colin, I've had detentions before."

"Yeah, but…"

"Well, well, well," Draco interrupted. "Isn't this sweet? The Weasel's got herself a puppy."

Colin looked vaguely insulted, Ginny simply looked annoyed.

"Oh very clever, Malfoy." Colin snapped.

"Thank you for noticing." Draco said, but he was looking at Ginny, gauging her reaction.

"Where's Snape?" She asked suddenly.

"He had to make a run into town." He answered.

Her face brightened "So…no detention tonight?"

"You wish. I'm supervising tonight. Part of my duties as head boy, you know." He puffed out his chest slightly, emphasizing the prominently placed Head boy badge. He sneered, eagerly anticipating her gasp of surprise or anger. Waiting for her face to turn its customary red. Neither happened. In fact, he could discern no visible change in her expression whatsoever, strange for someone whose emotions were usually so unveiled.

"I'm staying." Colin said firmly.

"I don't think so for two reasons. One: Detention is meant to be a punishment. Two: I don't want to have to look at your scrawny face for the next hour. So just run along now."

"No way. I'm stay- never mind, I won't stay. And neither will Ginny. Come on, Gin." Colin said, pulling on her sleeve.

"I-I…" For a moment she didn't move.

"Come _on, _Gin. Let's go." He tugged again.

"No Colin. It's okay. I'll stay."

"But-but-Malfoy…"

"Is just trying to make me mad. If I ditch tonight, I'll have another week. I might as well just get it over with now." She said with a sigh.

"But Ginny! I-"

"Colin." She said warningly. Draco smirked; and here he had thought she only spoke to him like that.

"Fine, but I'm not happy about this." He glanced in Malfoy's direction. "If you harm her in any way, shape or form and I'll beat you so bad that your small intestine comes out of your ear."

Ginny cringed. Colin paused, "That was a rather odd way of expressing myself, wasn't it?"

She smiled encouragingly at him. "You tried."

Draco patted his arm in mock sympathy. "Not everyone has the gift."

"Colin, really, I'll be fine. Go." She said, leading him forcefully toward the exit.

"Fine, but if you're not back by morning, I'm calling the Ministry." Colin said, giving her one last doubtful look before retreating through the classroom door.

"Do you really want to be alone with me that badly? I mean, I know I'm hot, but really…"

"Look, Malfoy. If this is going to work we're going to have to tolerate each other. I don't want to be friends with you, I'm not even saying I have to _like_ you, but we're going to have to spend a lot of time together and-"

Draco didn't look terribly thrilled with that. He scoffed. She glared in response.

"Okay," She corrected. "We will have to spend _some_ time in the same general vicinity. Whichever way, if either of us are actually going to be able to enjoy the holiday, we'll have to learn to be in the same room for five minutes with out something exploding or the loss of vital body parts."

"Weasley," He asked, "When exactly did you decide you were in charge? I _own _you as long as that necklace is on your neck. I'll do whatever I bloody well please and you'll be happy about it."

"Let's not fight. Why don't I just get started? What am I supposed to be doing tonight?" She was angry. She wouldn't let it show, but she was. He could see it. She must have really been making an effort to be nice to him. He had thought for sure that that last comment would have set her off, but she sat smiling still, albeit through gritted teeth.

When he didn't reply, she raised her head, almost defiantly, daring him to reject her offer. The motion was enough to loosen her, scarf slightly from its tight embrace, drawing his attention to the garment. It was cold in the castle; especially down in the dungeons, but even here there was no use for a coat. She wore no jacket or cloak or any other indication that she had just come in from outside. Why then, did the scarf remain?

"Why don't you sit down, take your scarf off, get comfortable?" He asked, attempting to sound amiable. It sounded strange to his ears.

He thought back. Had she been wearing it all day? The day before? He wasn't sure.

"No thanks," She said, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. "I chill easily."

Unconsciously, he took a step closer to her. Pointing his wand at the fireplace, he murmured a spell and watched as a bright green flame leapt hungrily from wand to wood. The flare died down, until only the heart of the flame burned blue.

"Better?" He asked, and without realizing it stepped closer still.

"I prefer to leave it on, thanks."

"What are you hiding, Weasley?"

One hand wrapped instinctively, almost protectively around the scarf, she replied, "Nothing."

He smirked. "Not as innocent as people assume? Has Potter taken to role playing, then?"

She stared at him in bafflement.

"Just a bit of advice, but next time your speccy little boyfriend decides to become Count Dracula, make sure he doesn't leave a mark."

Her eyes widened, as she finally understood his allegation. He was accusing her- innocent Ginny Weasley of all people- of having a hickey!

On the other hand, Draco was nearly praying it was as simple as that. But from her expression, he was pretty sure it wasn't.

"What are you insinuating Malfoy? Because if it's anything like I think your suggesting you're dead."

"Well," He said, sadly reprimanding her, "that doesn't sound very friendly of you."

"Malfoy-"

He didn't give her a chance to riposte. He took two more long steps, closing the distance between them. "The scarf, Weasley."

Not a request. She backed up, finding only the wall behind her.

She was going to refuse; he could see it in her expression. Tucking one hand discreetly into his pocket, he felt for the ring there and punctuated his non-request with a sharp jab from the necklace. She winced, nearly imperceptibly, but there nonetheless. Then, her bright eyes shining with anger, she slowly began to unwrap the scarf fold by fold.

He gasped as the final loop came unfastened, exposing her pale neck. It couldn't be…but it was. It had to be. It wasn't possible, and yet there it was. He carefully put his hand to her neck, not wanting to cause her pain by touching the bruise. Lightly, he allowed his fingers to wrap around her neck, following the pattern of the mark. It was, as he expected, the perfect shape and size of a hand.

The image of Tom closing his hand around her neck came crashing back to him. He closed his eyes, trying to dismiss the picture, but found it only more vivid in his mind. Her pale face, glowing with sweat, growing red with pain. The shallowness of her breathing, her gasping for air as her throat was released.

He wanted to say something, but couldn't seem to open his mouth. Then again, even if he had been able to, he had no word to comfort her.

He remembered waking once from a nightmare. Lucius had been away on business and Draco, no more than five years old, had snuck to his mothers room and curled up in the bed with her.

"_Shush darling,_" She had said, wrapping an arm around his thin frame, "_it's only a dream. It's not real. Nothing can hurt you."_

Since when could dreams leave bruises? How could he console her when the only thing he could think to say was a lie. Tom could hurt her. He'd already proven that.

Her eyes, averted until now met his for a second. He was struck. He had never seen such emotion before. In her eyes he saw anger, sadness, regret, confusion, hatred, betrayal. Draco couldn't imagine possessing those emotions all at once. There was something so very tragically beautiful about her that moment that he felt the urge to reach out and pull her into his arms, to comfort her. They were only a hairs width apart, one step and he could close the gap and…

_Too close_, he thought backing away quickly, _way too close._

His whole body rebelled at the thought moving from her, his whole mind trying to get as far away as possible. The impulse to flee won out and he retreated several steps, burning to get as far away from her as possible.

"Just go Weasley." He heard himself say.

She nodded, wrapping the scarf around her neck again. "Detention…?"

"Is over for the night. Just leave." He ordered, sitting down, not wanting to face her.

And with one final look at him, she did.

* * *

You managed to make it through yet another chapter, you brave, brave soul. We're actually getting pretty close to Christmas (and the climax) for anyone out there waiting for the end. coughDracocough. As always, thanks soooooo much for reading and reviewing! You guys make my day. stares blankly at computer waiting for reviews and drinking coffee Love 'ya! 

Draco: looks around making sure no one is watching pulls out crazy dsco outfit

Suddenly, from the ceiling drops a heavenly disco ball and "Play That Funky Music White Boy" can be heard echoing through the author's mind.

Please review. (ignore the ramblings, just lil'ole' senile me)


	22. Chapter TwentyTwo

Wow! My first upload since made all those weird changes...Anyway, I guess I lied! I'm sooooooo sorry, this chapter took FOREVER! But my computer has, like, over 100 viruses (sadly, I'm not exagerating) so I've been having to use mydaddy's when he wasn't using it- which was hardly ever. And then, when I was about halfway through with this chapter, I decided I didn't like it (Draco was _really_ occ) so I deleted it and started over. So, yeah, sorry I didn't upload.

Usually, I just say my thank yous at the end, but I wanted to make sure everyone saw it. I love all my reveiwers! It makes me so happy to see them in my inbox (not to mention makes me write faster). Thank you allso much!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the settings, just the plot. Take that too if you want it.

* * *

Ginny had always had classes with Malfoy, she'd just never really noticed until now. Well, of course she hadn't been completely oblivious to his presence- he made that entirely impossible between his snide remarks and his blatant amusement at making her angry. But at least after the few customary insults, her threats of violence, his entirely too confident innuendos and one of them acting upon afore mentioned treats of violence and hexing the other, the classes had passed in nearly tolerable silence. 

Now he was everywhere.

During breakfast, his eyes never left her. He talked normally if not more than usual with Pansy, but throughout the whole conversation, she felt his unabashed gaze.

On the way down to the dungeons for potions, she could hear footsteps behind her. Annoyed and unnerved, she turned, only to find there was nothing there. When she continued, the footsteps resumed. Turning again, trying to catch a glimpse of her pursuer, she saw nothing. By the time she finally reached the classroom, she was positive she had a slight case of whiplash. Draco Malfoy entered nearly three full minutes later, just as the final bell rang.

During the class he hardly spoke at all, except to correct her use of themes when the potion clearly called for a pinch of sage (although his definition of _correct_ vastly differed from Ginny's. His meaning instead matched that which she had always associated with 'antagonize'). Despite his uncharacteristic silence, he's eyes never seemed to leave her. He watched her every move with an intense concentration that was so drastically out of character for the usually remote Slytherin that several times she found herself shirking away from his prying eyes.

If she had had any doubts it had been him that she had heard in the dungeons, they were removed when he took the long way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, which happened to coincide with her regular route to Herbology. He stayed at a carefully maintained distance away from her, but there was no denying that he was following her. In fact, he didn't seem to care at all if she noticed that he was behind her or not.

At lunch, his watch became even more unguarded. He seemed to have a total disregard for the fact that his gaze was now drawing attention.

"Ginny," Ron said through a mouthful of potatoes, looking slightly concerned, "I think Malfoy's looking at you."

Ginny looked up from her plate, which she had been studying very intently for the past several minutes, and glanced at the Slytherin table where the blond sat staring at her.

Luna sighed contently. "Ahh, young love." She said, staring off into space with a dreamy look upon her face.

Ron looked suspiciously at Ginny. Apparently the thought that she and Malfoy could be in love was horrifying enough to make him stop eating. And considering it was Ron, that was quite impressive.

Looking simply disgusted he said, "Ginny you're not-"

"Of course not, Ron." She interrupted, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "That's just revolting."

"You know," Luna said, smiling, "Male Zorlacks will stare for hours upon end at a female until he decides whether or not she's suitable for mating."

"Malfoy better not be even thinking about mating with my little sister or Merlin help him-" Ron stood, apparently with every intention of demonstrating to Malfoy just how painful having one's head bashed in with a mallet could be.

"Ron, I've said it a thousand times. There's nothing going on between Malfoy and me." Ginny said exasperated, pulling her brother back down into his seat.

"Personally, I think the whole process is rather sexist, but when you're as rare as a Red-Crested Zorlack, I suppose you have the right to be selective." Luna continued.

"Actually, no. Including that time, you've only said it twice. I would appreciate to hear it the other nine hundred and ninety-eight times now." He said looking from Hermione, fixedly reading her book, to Harry who had fallen asleep with his head on the table, for agreement.

"Ron," Hermione added reasonably, looking up from her book, "Ginny dislikes Malfoy nearly as much as you do."

"Supposedly there are only twenty-three left in the wild." Luna added. "So really there aren't that many choices anyway."

"Fine Ron, would you like me to yell it right here?" Ginny asked, feeling more then a little exasperated with her brother's stupidity. "Write a song about my endless disdain for Malfoys? A limerick maybe?"

"Yes, actually." He said. "That would be rather nice about now."

"Ron, you're making a dig deal out of nothing." Ginny insisted, temper flaring a bit.

"Ginny, if there's something going on between you and the ferret, I have a right to know."

Teetering on the edge of a outburst, she said. "First off, there is nothing going on. Second, even if there was, it's my own business."

"_If there was_? Is there? I'm your brother and-"

"And what, Ron? And you want to protect me? Is that it? I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." She said, raising her voice several octaves.

"Of course you are." He said, looking taken aback by her sudden anger, "I just-I just mean…"

"Really, you two are making a spectacle." Hermione said, blushing slightly.

Ginny looked around. People, (one blond in particular) were indeed staring at them. "So what?" Ginny asked, feeling irrationally annoyed with Hermione for breaking up the argument. "I could stand here screaming bloody murder. What does it matter if I do? I-Harry are you alright?"

A rather loud _thump_ interrupted her as Harry fell off his chair onto the ground.

Appearing startled and confused Harry looked up at his friends' concerned faces from the ground, rubbing the back of his head. "Bloody-"

"Harry are you okay?" Hermione asked, almost immediately at his side.

"Scar." He said lowering his voice. "It was bothering me all night and again just now. I think _he_'s planning something."

"That's probably why Malfoy's been such a fruit case today. It must have been Harry he was looking at." Ron said looking slightly relieved that Draco hadn't been lusting after his sister after all. "You know he's in on all of _daddy's_ little plans."

"Ron." Hermione said reproachfully. She turned back to Harry, "But this isn't exactly new news, is it Harry? I mean, your scar's been bothering you constantly lately, right?"

"Yeah, but this is…different. Stronger somehow."

"Maybe we should talk about this later." Hermione said, shooting a look at Malfoy, who was still staring in their direction.

"Why?" Ron asked, looking completely clueless. After a second, his face brightened in understanding. "Oh." He said cleverly. "I got it."

Hermione patted her boyfriend's hand. "Good job, Ron."

Ginny sighed. She couldn't stay one more minute in the room between Ron plotting and Malfoy staring, without saying something to her brother she would regret later and a fight with Ron was really not something she needed at the moment.

"Let's go Luna; I got to get some air." Ginny said, offering her Ravenclaw friend a hand up.

"Sure," Luna said, taking proffered hand and following Ginny out.

As an afterthought the redhead added, "Bye Ron, Harry, Herm."

"Uh-huh." Ron said, waving her off without looking.

"You know," Luna said, a little more loudly than normal, "He seemed much more interested when we were discussing your mating habits."

Ginny laughed as Ron waved them off again in complete oblivion- exactly as Ginny wished she could be to the pair of slate grey eyes still following her.

The rest of the day followed in much the same manner. Everywhere she went, she could feel his gaze following her. By the end of the day, she was ready to skip dinner and just escape to the safety of the Gryffindor common room, and would have too if that wouldn't have put Ron back into protective-brother mode. After finishing a quick diner, she and Colin nearly ran to the tower.

Sinking down onto her favorite couch, she sighed and let her head fall on Colin's shoulder.

"So tired." She mumbled. "I just want to sleep."

He laughed, the sound rumbling across his whole body, rocking her head. "No homework tonight?"

She shook her head.

"At least you don't have infirmary duty tonight." He said.

She nodded, closing her eyes. Then, suddenly, her eyes flew open. "Colin!" She groaned, "Why'd you have to remind me?"

"What?" He asked as his friend stood up quickly, brushed off her robes and grabbed her bag.

"I have to go to the hospital wing tonight."

"Can't you just go tomorrow?"

"Quidditch." She answered shortly, headed for the door. "And I haven't done my three nights this week. I have to go."

"Bye, Gin!" He called, but she was already through the portrait hole.

She of course, should have known- should have known as soon as Colin mentioned the hospital- that Draco would be there. She should have realized there was no way that there was no way he would _not_ be there.

And despite all of that, it still came as a surprise when the curtains around on of the cots were suddenly thrown open right in front of her and Malfoy's face was suddenly only inches from her face. She gasped and stepped back.

Draco was likewise shocked by the vastness and …creativeness of her vocabulary. The obscenities streaming from her mouth made even _him _cringe. He made a mental note to never sneak up on her again as her cursing swiftly dissolved as she recognized him and was replaced by some rather painful sounding threats, most of which including the removal of body parts he had grown rather fond of.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded, after finishing a particularly dreadful sounding threat involving a broom stick, mouse trap and a shovel.

Draco, having stopped listening around the part about the shovel, was staring again at her neck. The scarf was gone, but her normally untamed hair was brushed smooth and her curls were very deliberately arranged to fall around her neck.

"I've had it with you following me around, you bloody wanker." She continued angrily. "I want this to stop right now or so help me, I'll-"

She broke off, looking startled, as he reached out and brushed the hair behind her ear. Had it been under any other circumstances, it would have seemed an almost affectionate gesture. His eyes were full of an emotion she couldn't quite place.

"Is this why you were late?" He asked, eyes focusing suddenly and his voice sounding strangely harsh.

"What?" She asked.

"When you were late to class Monday- it was because of this wasn't it?" He asked, realizing belatedly that he hadn't seen her at all on Sunday, not even at meal times. How could he have been stupid enough not to realize she hadn't been there?

"Malfoy, it's none of your bloody business-"

"That's crap, Weasley. Something major like this happens and you don't even tell anyone?" He asked. Taking a chance of course, because for all he knew she could have told the whole Gryffindor house, but it seemed from her blanch, that he was correct in assuming she had kept it a secret. "How stupid can you be? Who did this to you?" He asked, although of course, he already knew.

She sneered, the expression failing to portray any degree of hostility at all and instead showing a look of complete fear. "What, a Malfoy pretending to care about someone other than himself?"

"My God, this is more important than you and me. This is-" He stopped, at a complete loss for words. "Just…come here."

She didn't move. With an aggravated sigh at her stubbornness, he moved to close the space between them.

"Here." He pulled out his wand and gently, put it to her neck where only the slight outline of the bruise remained. Murmuring something so softly even she couldn't hear, warmth jumped from his wand down her neck and rippling down her spine. She shivered.

"Thank you." She said quietly. Bruises, one of the bodies most basic ways of repairing itself (and therefore most deeply encrypted in the mind) were oddly enough more difficult to heal then broken bones. If not for that fact, she would have healed it herself ages ago.

The spell was more of a symbolic gesture, an offering of peace than anything else. Ginny didn't pull away and Draco hoped that it signified that she had understood his figurative olive branch and had accepted it.

Tentatively, she smiled at him.

"Hey, after all," He said with a crooked grin. "We might have to 'spend _some_ time together in the same general vicinity.'"

* * *

Umm...I can't quite decide whether I liked the end or not, so I guess ya'll can tell me what you think. Anyways, thanks again. I'll have another chapter up soon (vacation starts for me on the 11th and I'll try to update before then).Plus,nothing puts you in the mood for writing like a twenty-four hour car ridewith nothing else to do. 

(Special note to QueenThayet) I updated on _A_ friday. Does that count?


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

Hey! Short chapter, I know, but I'm leaving for vaction tonight(or tomorrow if we don't get packed in time which is very likely) so I won't be able to update for about two weeks, but, it's a twenty four hour car ride there and back, so I'll have plenty of time to write.

I'm so depresses that the new book is coming out when I'm in Ohio so I won't be able to read it until I get home! Tell me nothing about it!

Disclaimer; I own nothing. All settings and charecters belong to the wonderful J.K. Rowling.

* * *

"And here we go." Blaise said with an aggravated sigh.

"But if it can help people then why-"

"Because there will just as many idiots out there who will abuse it then use it for medical purposes." Draco interrupted her.

"But it's not fair that we should deny anyone the medicine they need just because stupid people misuse it?" Ginny demanded, looking annoyed.

"So you're willing to let people slowly kill themselves so others can live? You know Quillwort is addictive." He countered.

"But you can't get addicted if you never try it, can you? If we just establish laws that would-"

"Ever heard of prohibition? Where America banned alcohol? And what good did that do? It just increased the amount of people willing to break the law."

Ginny paused for a moment and Draco smirked. "Taking an awful long time on a comeback, Weasley. Out of big words? Just give up and admit defeat."

"You don't really understand the concept of defeat do you, Malfoy?" Ginny said.

"Which part?" He asked, "The bit where I win or the part where you lose?"

"I haven't even begun to fight. You are so going down."

Draco paused, stared at her, and then grinned. "That was about the worst comeback I've ever heard."

"Yeah, well your ignorance is contagious." She snapped.

"Ahh, you don't really mean that do you?" He said, flashing his most charming smile.

"Don't worry, smart girls like dumb guys. I'm sure if you apologize for all the name calling, Hermione will still love you." She retorted with a grin of her own.

Draco gagged. "That's disgusting." He said. "Way below the belt."

"What's disgusting?" A voice asked. Ginny turned toward the source of the voice only to be greeted by one large, pale blue eye studying her through a vacant space in the bookshelf. "And does your friend know he's drooling?"

"Don't sneak up on people like that!" Ginny ordered, before beckoning for her friend to join them.

"Does she do that often?" Draco asked, eyeing Luna suspiciously as she walked toward them, wearing obscenely bright green robes and miniature dragon earrings that periodically opened their mouths and spewed red flames.

"All the time." Ginny answered, walking over to meet her friend.

"Ever freak you out?" Draco asked when the pair returned, arm in arm.

"All the time." Ginny repeated.

"Does what freak you out?" Luna inquired.

"The amount of drool Blaise is capable of admitting while sleeping." She answered, looking at her dark-haired friend who had fallen asleep somewhere in the middle of Draco's and her debate. With a mischievous grin, she summoned a glass of ice water (something she had gotten quite good at, having six older brothers) and promptly dumped it over Blaise's head.

Sputtering, Blaise said several words that would have made his mother _scourgify _his mouth, before sending Ginny a death glare. Madame Pince, the librarian, sent them an irritated glance, before returning to her task of re-shelving the books.

"Now was that really necessary?" He asked moodily.

"No." She said smiling. "But it was fun."

Blaise gave her another sour look as he flipped through his now damp book. "This is McGonagall's book I hope you know. She'll have my head for this."

"Just be glad it wasn't one of Madame Pince's books." Luna said with a shudder.

"Luna, how many times do I have to tell you?" Ginny said, exasperated with her friend. "There are no subliminal messages in the potions books, the ancient rune books do not become carnivorous and attack you if they're overdue, and above all, Madame Pince most definitely is_ not _secretly in love with Professor Trelawney."

"Although I did see her coming down from the Divination classroom looking a little flustered." Blaise said smirking.

Luna studied him for a moment before plainly declaring. "I don't like you."

Blaise gave her a look of mock pain and Draco sniggered.

"I don't like you either." She informed the other Slytherin, before turning back to Ginny. "Aren't you supposed to be at practice?"

"Oh, bugger. Quidditch." She had forgotten. Again. Ron was going to have a cow.

"Wait, I thought you were going to help me with my transfiguration!" Blaise said, waving his book. She had been planning to help his catch up (he was utterly dreadful at the subject. Every time he tried to change his hamster into a plate it would retain its legs and scurry away resulting in a ten minute game of find-the-mutant-plate-hamster-hybrid) when Malfoy had showed up, also to help his friend. He had seemed surprised to see her, but Blaise kept shooting them enough secretive glances that she suspected her friend had been plotting. Blaise, she decided, should have known better than to have expected to get any work done with Draco and her in the same room. They had been at work little more then five minutes before they had ended up in an argument over whether or not Quillwort- a possibly addictive ingredient that was also used in many healing potions-should be made legal.

"I'm sorry," She said, grabbing her books, "But I really have to go. Another time."

Draco, she noticed, was also gathering his belongings.

"Where are you going?" Blaise asked, looking incredulously at his blond friend.

"I have to go to the infirmary." He answered with a shrug.

"But my midterm is tomorrow." Blaise complained.

Luna sighed, always the self-sacrificing martyr. "I'll do it."

"See you guys later." Ginny said, turning back only once to see the look of terror on Blaise's face.

* * *

The adjoining room was dimly lit and, like everything else in the house, richly furnished. Ear pressed to the wall, she listened carefully, storing every word in her memory. 

"Her home?" Are you sure?" A gruff voice questioned.

"Of course I'm sure." A second voice barked.

"I thought for sure Dumbledore would try to spirit the whole lot away." A third voice, this one deep and scornful, but very obviously female, commented.

"Of course there must be guards." Said the second voice.

"But we can get around those." The woman said, a twisted amusement clear in her voice.

"The girl herself- will she be any trouble?" The first man who she vaguely remembered asked. Dolohov, she thought was his name. Lucius had far too many cohorts to keep the all straight.

The second man, her husband, laughed. "A Weasley? I think not."

"I don't see why we have to even bother with the girl." The woman whined. "Wouldn't it be so much easier to just off Potter?"

"Questioning the Master, Bella?" Lucius asked coolly.

"No. I just wonder why he would bother with the girl when Potter would-"

"It's not your place to wonder." Lucius snapped.

"Of course not." She muttered demurely.

Their voices were becoming more muffled, distant. She walked along the wall, following the sound of their voices.

"But what of Potter?" The first man asked.

"He'll stay at the school most likely. The old man wouldn't let him out of his sight." Lucius answered, his voice growing quieter still. They must have been walking towards the door. Desperate to hear, she moved along with them.

Tripping in her haste, she grasped the small, chestnut table beside her for balance, knocking the porcelain vase from its perch. Recoiling from the shower of broken glass, shattering on the marble floor with a crash, she uttered a small cry of alarm.

She could hear them running towards her, and for a moment she was frozen. As the three entered the room, Lucius first, followed closely by the others, she had sense enough to look lost.

Grabbing her wrist, glaring coldly at her, Lucius was enraged.

"What are you doing in here?" He asked, his glare enough to send shivers down her spine.

"Cleaning." She said automatically. "There-there was a spider." She finished somewhat lamely.

"And were you not informed I was to be entertaining today? You know better than to interrupt."

Regaining confidence she shook her head and glanced at the other two as if just noticing them for the first time.

"I sent a house-elf to inform you." He said, voice losing a bit of its edge.

With wide doe eyes filling with a feigned righteous rage, she answered, "I knew it, always cutting corners. Lucius some of those things _must_ go. They're always slinking around. And they stare. It's unnatural."

Her husband still looked doubtful.

"Why do you think I clean your private study myself?" She asked, gesturing to the room around her. "They'll steal. Nasty little creatures. Always lurking."

Seemingly satisfied with her response he released her wrists.

Continuing her act, now almost reveling in the thrill of her performance, she excused herself with an angry, "If you'll pardon me, I believe I have some _clothes_ to distribute." and was gone before Lucius could give her a word of argument.

Once gone, Dolohov whistled appreciatively, "Runs a tight shift, that Narcissa. Lucky to have such a faithful wife, Lucius. Caught my own wench with Crabbe just last week. Unfaithful chit."

"Yes lucky indeed." Lucius answered. "I trust you can let yourself out."

Not even bothering to look put out at his abrupt dismissal, he exited through the adjoining parlor door.

"I don't trust her." Bellatrix said, after the man had left.

"No." Lucius answered. "Nor do I."

* * *

Poor Narcissa keeps wandering through the pages, never actually sure whether she's actually part of the plot or not. 

Anyways, thanks again to all my reviewers. I love you all! Cookies to everyone! Well, and spirits for Chicklepea. Enjoy!


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

Ahhhh...Jk, you're killing us! So, without spoilers, I'll say that I finished book six and allI can say is "NOOOOOOO!"

No, I didn't give up on this story. I promise. I was just on vacation in Ohio for three weeks and then, two days later school started, so I've been pretty busy. Things are quieting down now, so I should be able to update pretty soon. We should be getting to Christmas Holiday in the next chapter! Whoot! And now, the longand impatiently awaited, Chapter 24! (_The Price is Right_ theme song begins randomly playing in the background)

* * *

"Why would you do that?" 

"Hmm…?" Blaise asked, suddenly becoming much more interested in his magazine.

"You planned that." Draco replied. "Why didn't you tell me she'd be there?"

"Planned what?" His friend asked absently.

Draco glared.

"Fine. Is it a crime to want your two best friends to get along?" Blaise said.

"Me and Weasley? Get along? I always knew you were nuts."

"Weasley and I." Blaise corrected. Draco stared at him as though he had just announced he was going to elope with Pansy Parkinson and then join the circus.

"You expect me to put _her_ first?"

Blaise rolled his eyes and muttered something that sounded uncannily like "git".

Again, Draco glared at his friend.

"Besides," Said Blaise, "We don't get any work done when it's just the two of us. Guys keep coming up to flirt with her. Or occasionally," He added with a shudder, "me. They all seem to think I'm gay after that thing with Colin at the Halloween dance.

"If I weren't so tired, I'd be seriously disturbed."

"See, Colin walked over and-"

"Not that." Draco snapped, cringing. "keep your twisted love life to yourself. I meant the fact that anyone would find Weasley attractive enough to actually put some sort of effort into impressing her. I mean, she's nice enough to look at, but just being in the same room with her for three minutes is enough to make any sane man want to rip his hair out."

Blaise laughed. "Rip your hair out, eh? Funny what some guys will do to ease their frustrations. Personally, I just find a girl willing to follow me into the broom closet."

"You're telling me that you find Weasley…" He stumbled a bit over the wording, "_desirable_?"

"You've known me for year and you don't find it the least bit strange that I choose now to start randomly befriending Gryffindors?"

Draco cringed. "So, basically you're telling me you wanted to…_seduce _Weasley and… I don't know have your way with her?" At least now he knew why Blaise had suddenly had no problem associating with a Gryffindor.

Blaise laughed. "Well, I would have put it a little more delicately but…yes that was the basic plan." Draco cringed again. "Oh, don't worry," Blaise assured him. "I'm not competition. I realized she's not my type."

The blond scoffed. "Not this again. I told you, I don't fancy Weasley."

"Sure."

"I don't! Really!" Stupid idiot Blaise and his stupid idiot assumptions. No matter how much Draco denied _any _attraction to the redheaded Gryffindor Blaise still kept making not so subtle references to her. Inviting Ginny to the library had obviously been another one of his plans to get the two of them together.

"Please Draco, she's the only one who can get under your skin. You talk about her almost constantly when she's not around-"

"I do not!" Draco interrupted indignantly.

"You get all hot and bothered any time she _is_ around." Blaise continued.

"Malfoys do not get hot and bothered." Draco corrected scornfully.

"You call out her name in your sleep."

"Oh, now your just making things up."

"Hey, say what you will, but half the time there's so much sexual tension between you two I'm afraid you'll throw her down on the table and make little pink-haired babies right in front of me."

Draco winced. "Now theirs a scary thought; Weasel Junior. I'm telling you, when you start using phrases like, 'sexual tension' it's time to lay off Pansy's romance novels. What are you reading now anyways, _Teen Witch Magazine_?" Draco asked, snatching the abandoned magazine off the arm of Blaise's chair.

Blaise made an effort to snatch it back, but Draco was too quick and nimbly jumped out of his friend's grasp.

"_The Quibbler_?" Draco asked in slight disbelief as he read the title. He absently fanned through the pages, all emblazoned with brightly colored extraordinary looking animals and a particularly strange article about a woman who claimed to be impregnated with Godric Gryffindor's child. He stopped, noticing Blaise had dog-eared one of the pages toward the back. He scanned the page until his eyes fell on a small, about the editor paragraph in the bottom right hand corner. Next to the article was a picture of a rather small man with large, protruding eyes, even further enlarged by a pair of thick glasses. He had his arm around Luna Lovegood, looking down at her affectionately. Luna, looked from Draco (frowning), to Blaise (winking).

"I'll take that." Blaise snapped, and grabbed it from the blonde's hands and hastily rolling it up and placing it in his pocket.

"Looney Lovegood, Blaise? Honestly, I think I would be less disturbed if you had been looking up makeup tips and which bikini fits your figure best."

"Don't call her that." Blaise said reproachfully.

"She's dating _Neville Longbottom_!"

"No she's not. She hasn't seen him since the Halloween dance. She said he got too freaked out whenever she mentioned Blue-Winged Abarad to ever actually have a relationship with him."

Draco, for some reason unknown to Blaise found this statement hilarious.

"What?" Blaise demanded feeling slightly degraded.

"You-you –" Draco could hardly get the words out between bursts of laughter. "You're Looney's rebound guy! You-you're _Longbottom's _replacement."

"Luna and I aren't dating," Blaise said defensively. "Now if you excuse me, I have to go pack."

"You can't even replace Longbottom!" Draco howled.

"Yeah and you're in love with Ginny Weasley. Life's a funny, funny thing."

Abruptly, Draco stopped laughing. "That's it. You're dead."

And then, Blaise and Draco bonded in a manner befitting two true Slytherins. Namely, the bonding of Draco's fist to Blaise's face and then the connection of Blaise's foot to Draco's jaw.

* * *

Ginny closed her eyes sleepily before refocusing them on her books. 

"Stupid messy-haired, hyper competitive, green-eyed freak." She mumbled to nothing in particular. Harry, in preparation for the two-week Quidditch break had ordered a double session of practice. She could swear the tips of her fingers were still numb from the cold.

"It's our last practice before holiday." He had kept reminding them.

Well, now it was well past midnight and she had her last _midterm _before holiday to worry about. And it was potions. She sighed as she closed her book and began her assent up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. There was really no use in studying when she'd just forget it all by morning. And right then, a warm blanket was sounding really appealing.

"That's what you get for waiting until the last minute." A voice that sounded annoyingly like Hermione scolded.

Collapsing on the bed she shifted around for a minute before sliding her legs between the sheets and puling the covers up to her chin.

As she closed her eyes she became aware of the spot of warmth on her chest that had grown so familiar to her. She fingered the necklace absently as she drifted off to sleep.

Draco shifted around uncomfortably. Casting an envious glance at his peacefully sleeping roommate, he rolled over yet again and let out a sigh of frustration. It was far too hot to even consider sleep and no matter how many times he _scourified_ the sheets he couldn't help but notice they still smelled distinctly of vanilla. He rolled over one last time before closing his eyes and waiting impatiently for sleep to come.

* * *

_Draco kneeled on the hard, cold floor, pain filling his whole body. His arms were tied straight out at his sides, as though he hung from some ominous crucifix, leaving his bare chest exposed to the crowd of hooded men around him. The constant, dull ache of pain from being pinioned in such an unnatural position was broken only by the sharp pain of the curses being thrown at him. He screamed, a low, feral cry of pain and desperation as another curse hit him full in the chest. Each time he jerked, the chains bit deeper into his pale skin and warm blood trickled down his arm. His world was in a blur, everything spun and his stomach churned. Mocking voices, laughing, more curses- all directed at him- mixed together, the effect leaving his head throbbing. Then, maybe even more alarming then the noise, came a sudden silence._

_Then, as though some angel of mercy had been sent to rescue him from this private hell, a pale, slender hand unchained first one arm, then the other. Draco's arms fell limply to his sides, unprepared for their sudden release and Draco sat for a moment, unable and unwilling to move. Then gently, almost caringly, his rescuer lifted him to his feet and slipped on arm gingerly around Draco for support._

_Draco's legs throbbed in protest when he tried to move them. Pain ripped through his leg, stiff after so long disused, still he stumbled along with his aide_. _Even assisted, he couldn't manage such a far distance as across the room and fell to the ground. The same person bent down again to pull him to his feet, but this time not so gently. Draco was being dragged from the floor. This time, he refused to be moved. With all the stubbornness befitting a Malfoy, Draco laid his head down and closed his eyes. _

"_Get up, boy, get up." __Draco hardly felt the foot making contact with his side._

"_That will do Lucius." Someone announced, the voice both rasping and commanding. Immediately Draco's arm was released._

"_You've done quite well," The voice announce with something that must have been akin to satisfaction. The rustling of robes heading toward him was enough to make Draco rouse himself to look up. Not even a foot away from him stood a hooded figure. Eyes, red and cat-like, stared emotionlessly out at him and Draco knew now of course who was before him. Voldemort._

_The dark lord knelt before him, looking intently into his eyes, making Draco repress a shudder. _

"_This is not what you wish?' Voldemort asked with some amusement, his voice lowered so that no one else could here._

_Draco couldn't bring himself to speak. Voldemort's mouth twisted into an ugly smile. "This is what you were born for. This is what you _are_. Look around you. This is what you will become."_

"_No." Draco managed._

"_You can't escape your destiny, Draco." Voldemort told him, and suddenly Draco was on fire. Every inch of his skin burned. His insides too seemed to have caught ablaze. He'd never been n so much pain in his life. He opened his mouth to scream but the sound died in his throat, too parched to play host to any type of sound at all. Draco knew he was dieing, he _wanted_ to die, if only so the pain would end. Every bone in his body seemed to break and reform only to be broken again. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the pain died away, leaving only a dull ache filling his body._

"_This _is _your destiny. Accept it."_

_And then they were gone._

_Then, a moment later, he flinched at the unexpected touch as someone put a cool hand on his shoulder. He was too tired to respond further. He barely noticed as his shoulders began to heave in deep, silent, sobs._

"_Malfoy." He recognized the voice at once as Ginny's. His eyes fluttered lazily open and he made a fruitless effort to lift his heed._

"_Oh, Draco." She said sadly as she ever so gently pulled his head into her lap. Her hand stroked his temple, wiping away sweat and blood. He caught her other hand in his, not so much for comfort but to prevent it from traveling farther up his arm where he knew he had been branded with the dark mark. He opened his eyes only once, just long enough to see her concerned face peering down at him.

* * *

_

Draco woke up drenched in sweat and gasping for breath. He looked down impusivily at his left arm. Finding nothing there, he let out a sigh of irrational relief. He closed his eyes and took slow, deliberate, breaths. When his heart had slowed to it's normal pace, he opened his eyes again, only to see Blaise, sitting cross-legged and shirtless on the other bed looking at him with obvious concern.

"Dreams again?" His roommate asked. He nodded, pushing back the covers and swinging his legs onto the ground.

"What time is it?" Draco asked, heading towards the bathroom to so he could wash his face.

"Six." Blaise replied.

Draco groaned. There was no use going back to sleep now. Quickly he set about penning a short letter to his mother before getting dressed for school.

* * *

Ginny awoke groggily with the feeling she was being dragged through murky water. Her vision blurred momentarily before she was able to sit up. Parvati and Lavender were both still sleeping soundly. Hermione was dressed and ready for school, reclining on her bed with a rather large book in hand. 

"What time is it?" She asked blearily.

"Six." Hermione answered tersely, eyes not leaving her page.

Ginny groaned. Six? She had at least another half an hour of good sleep left. Not that she'd be able to go back to sleep after _that._ Nearly a whole week dream-free only to be followed up with nightmares about Malfoy of all people. Welll, she could understand Malfoy _giving _people nightmares, but this was something completely different.

"What are you doing up?" She asked.

"Last midterm today." Hermione answered, still reading. "Ancient runes. Very difficult"

"Complete sentences would be nice, you know."

Hermione paused her reading to glare at Ginny.

"Fine, fine." Ginny grumbled, getting slowly to her feet. "I hate mornings."

* * *

I really like Draco's dream. It was reallly hard to write, butI like the way it came out. 

I want to say yet another HUGE thank-you to everyone who took the time to review. It makes me so happy. (huggles random reviewer) I wuv you guys (blows kisses)


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

Ahhh...guys I'm soooooooooooooooo sorry it took so long to update! I really am! I know I promised thatI wouldupdate soon, and then I went and took the longest it's porbably even taken me to write a chapter! I am an aweful author. I know. Feel free to throw tomatoes. Just not rotten ones. But now that swim team is over (ahaha! Behold! I got ninth place overall in districts! Bow down to my awesome swimming ability!) I'll begetting home a full three hours earlier so I promise (really this time) that the next chapter will come out sooner! Plus, I've been dying to write all the Christmas scenes since I started writing this so I'llbe able to write a lot more quickly (YES! Queen Thayet! My amazing use of grammmer! More Quickly! Not Quicklier!) Anyways, seeing as I've delayed this chapter long enough...on to the story!

Disclaimer: Umm...can't think of a cute disclaimer. I disclaim.

* * *

He had entered the room looking distracted and tired and had left in much the same manner. Dark circles stood in contrast to his unusually pale skin, leaving her to wonder if she hadn't been the only one suffering from nightmares. He had finished his test within five minutes, and left the classroom, without so much as looking her direction once, an impressive feat considering they were seated right next to each other.

Ginny on the contrary, hadn't been able to look away. And even once he had left, the youngest Malfoy remained the sole occupant of her thoughts. She almost wised she'd never learned to think of him as anything but a condescending, rich, smarmy, brat. Of course, she had. She just didn't know _what _exactly she thought he was now. Draco Malfoy, a mystery wrapped in enigma. Stupid prat. At least she used to be able to attribute it to the fact that he was a heartless, vicious, cold-blooded, word-that-her-mother-would-faint-if-she-said-out loud. But now she'd seen-multiple times- that he was at least somewhat capable of emotions. That he was at the very least able to feel concern…and where could concern root from if not first from love?

She let out a frustrated sigh. Why couldn't she be stuck with someone whose life was simple… like maybe Harry? Yeah, that would be easy. No, no, instead she was bound to Mr. Death Eater Jr. himself. Which, now that she thought about it wasn't even strictly true. He may have been a prejudiced idiot, but he'd never actually done anything to show he'd really wanted to be a Death Eater. In fact, back in forth year, during the Quidditch World Cup, he'd even warned Hermione not to go back to the woods, no matter how obnoxious and vulgar a warning it had been.

Ginny remembered Harry recounting his conversation with Malfoy at the end of fifth year.

You think you're such a big man, Potter. You wait. I'll have you. You can't land my father in prison- 

Malfoy was so sure of himself. It was so easy. Black was black, white was white, and there was no in between. Now, the whole world was a spiraling kaleidoscope of gray. He had adored his father –idolized him even- and now, he seemed to loathe the man. Was it really possible for anyone to change so drastically?

Ashamed and not a little annoyed, she found herself hoping it was. Maybe it was just part of her nature, to think everything and everyone had a good side. Or maybe she was just naive.

But that wasn't even what was bothering her most. The most troubling thing was the fact that she _wasn't_ upset by the fact that she was dreaming about Draco. Even more troubling was that she _was_ upset over the thought of him having the dark mark.

She sighed again. Her focus drifting even farther from her potions assignment to the look he had had in her dream last night. He had reached out and stopped her from touching his arm where the dark mark would have been, and for a moment his mercury eyes had gleamed with more emotion then she had ever seen in them before. He was predictable, and therefore it was usually easy to tell what he was thinking, even when his placid gray eyes betrayed no emotion. But looking into his eyes for that one instant she had been able to see fear and pain and betrayal and even something more than that…some twisted mixture of the feral need to live and the all too human desire to die.

That, she supposed, was what had really struck her, what had made the whole dream so darkly fascinating to her. She couldn't imagine _wanting _to die, especially as someone who was as supremely selfish as Draco. She had always imagined him grasping to hold onto life, to hold it close to him like a dragon guarding its hoard. The thought shook her deeply. What had he lived through to make him not want to continue?

She shook her head. Her thoughts weren't even rational anymore. It was just a _dream_ after all. No dream was worth getting this excited about. She was just overanalyzing. Working herself into a fit over nothing.

Still, she had an incredible sense of foreboding and she let her hand rise to her neck. Whether to grasp the necklace or touch the spot where Tom Riddle had marked her she wasn't sure. Either way, the action soothed her and she breathed out deeply, and then inhaled letting the bitter air rush though her.

"I wasn't under the impression this test would be so difficult for you."

Ginny started and looked up. She knew the speaker was Professor Snape. Not because she had recognized his voice and certainly not because he seemed focused on her in the least bit- on the contrary, he was busily grading papers at her desk, not at all looking at her- but rather because he was the only other person left in the room.

Where was everyone? This was of course, her last midterm of the semester, and they were free to go as they finished, but surely everyone couldn't be done already. It was only- she paused to look at her watch and gasped. There was no way she'd sat there an hour and forty minutes and not finished her test.

"I-ah-I'm just really nervous. This class is really important for my future. Healer and all that." She said, only paying him the slightest bit of attention, while the rest of her concentration was on reading through the answers she'd put on her exam, answers that she couldn't remember writing for the life of her. She'd only left the last five blank, and the other answers seemed correct, which wasn't that surprising considering she knew her potions book so well she could basically recite it.

He didn't look up. "How many do you have left to complete?"

She blushed. "Five."

"Fine, Miss Weasley, finish." He said, still leaving angry red marks on some student's assignment.

Letting out a breath of relief, Ginny smiled. "Thank you, Professor."

He didn't respond as she quickly finished her paper and gathered her things, crossed the room and placed her test on his desk.

He didn't look up.

"Thank you again, Professor, it was really…decent of you-to let me finish my test."

"Yes, Virginia Weasley thinks I'm a decent sort of man. _Now _I can die happy."

Despite herself, she grinned as she headed for the door. She paused and looked back at him. "Happy Christmas, Professor."

"Ginny…. take care of things." He said, looking at her for the first time. She was struck by how odd her name sounded coming for his lips. He was staring at her, and she suddenly had the feeling that he was telling her something off monumental importance.

Her smile faltered only a moment. "Don't worry, I'll be careful."

* * *

"Hey. I just wanted to give you these before I left, in case I don't get to see you before Christmas." 

Neville blushed looking at his redheaded friend. Luna simply smiled, luminous Christmas lights twinkling at her ears, casting a blue radiance across her face. The earrings abruptly changed colors, switching to a lime green no ordinary Christmas light had ever achieved. Smiling back, Ginny handed each their presents.

Neville, still red but this time with pleasure, opened his quickly, showering his two friends with bits of wrapping paper.

"Brilliant!" He cried happily, reading the title of the book Ginny had given him. "_An Advanced Guild To Herbology_? Ginny," He said, smiling wavering as he ran his hand across the leather cover, "this must have cost a fortune. How'd you afford it?"

She grinned. "Don't worry about it. And don't you even think about returning it." She said sternly. "I already wrote in it."

He flipped open the cover and scrawled across the title page in her familiar, messy handwriting was, _To my dear friends Neville and Trevor the Toad, who's always there when you need him. Except when he's not._

He smiled and they both looked expectantly at Luna, who had begun systematically unwrapping her present by removing each individual piece of tape. When she reached the small white box, instead of opening it she set it aside and neatly folded the paper before continuing. As she lifted the lid, her eyes lit up with delight and Ginny smiled.

"To match your necklace." Ginny said, as she helped Luna clasp the bracelet around her wrist. Luna brought her new trinket closer to her face for examination.

The bracelet was made of at least thirty different butterbeer caps. "There's a bunch from different countries." Ginny said, sounding quite pleased with herself. "Charlie brought me some from Romania, and Hungary of course and Bill got a ton from Egypt. And they both brought back some odds and ends from different countries they've visited."

Luna was currently studying one that Charlie had gotten when he'd gone to study in Greenland for a few weeks.

"I…ah…got something for you two Gin." Neville said, smiling sweetly. He pulled something that looked like a brown thimble from his pocket and muttered an augmentation spell. Ginny watched as the thimble developed into a small flowerpot, and inside it were several dark purple flowers surrounded by large green leaves.

"They're supposed to be good luck. And…" He said, he looked up at her sheepishly. "…drive away nightmares."

For a moment she felt so loved that she wasn't even angry with Colin (for it _must _have been Colin) for telling Neville that she'd been having bad dreams. She happily wrapped an arm around each of her friends. She felt the overwhelmingly bittersweet passing of time, as if before her she could see the sand slowly dropping through the hourglass. She wanted, so bad it almost ached, for things to remain the way they were and at the same time she knew that soon things would change and never be the same. She couldn't explain the feeling, nor could she explain why it had hit her with such sudden intensity.

"I love you guys." She said softly, and the three of them stayed, just like that for a while, basking in each other's presence.

* * *

"All packed?" 

Draco raised an eyebrow at his friend as he nodded. The house elves had been in _ages_ ago to pack his bags.

Blaise grinned. "Lazy."

Draco huffed. "Condescension. That's all I get from you anymore. I think….maybe this break will be good for us."

"Honestly. I think I'd kill you in you're sleep if you weren't my best mate."

"I didn't know you cared." Draco said, smiling innocently.

"I don't, but I need someone to misplace my aggression on and Crabbe just can't banter the way you can, and Goyle doesn't laugh at my jokes."

"Admit it, I'm the only one that can stand you."

"I thought that was my line."

After a moment's contemplation Draco said thoughtfully, "I wonder if other friends do this."

"What, witty repartee?" Blaise asked. "I think it's just the way we communicate. Last time I tried to be sincere you asked me if I was drunk."

Draco grinned. "I remember that. You asked me if I wanted to talk."

"And then you asked me if I was gay."

"But I was very supportive about it." Draco said solemnly.

"You locked me out, screaming something about knowing someone'd been watching you in the showers!"

"Well, you wouldn't have been the first." Draco stated, sounding defensive. "Girls go wild over my rugged manliness."

Blaise looked at him skeptically. "Rugged manliness?"

"What's so unbelievable about that?" Draco wanted to know.

"Nothing….it's just you're not exactly the epitome of masculinity."

"Hey, I-"

"Know what colors suit your eyes best and own fifteen different types of hair gel. That doesn't exactly scream manliness."

"The ladies find me irresistible." The blond said sulkily.

"Of course they do. Just not because of your 'rugged manliness", because you're a Greek god with a face carved from marble and cold grey eyes that shine like the ocean on a stormy night."

Draco blanched. "That's it. You're officially cut off. If I catch you reading anymore of Pansy's romance novels I'll tell your parents that you can't hide your feelings anymore and that you've run away with Crabbe and some guy named Sue."

Blaise laughed. "Maybe you should tell them that anyway. That would be the funniest thing that happened since Aunt Ophelia got drunk and tried to make love to that ficus on the balcony."

"Remind me not to go to any of your family get togethers."

"I'm sure Malfoy family gatherings are a jolly affair."

Draco glared. "Of course they are. Of course we're stuck drinking white wine with every."

Blaise looked questioningly. "Because red wine is too hard to check for poison." Draco explained.

"Oh yeah, good times."

"Hey, it's like I always say, just because I'm paranoid doesn't mean someone's not out to get me."

"Since when do you say that?"

Draco thought for a moment. "Well, I'm sure I've said it at least _once_ before."

"Where'd you even hear that?"

"From my father. Just one of the cheery adages of Lucius Malfoy. My personal favorite was always one of the down sides of being perfect is that people tent to think you're pretentious."

"You _are _pretentious, you little prig."

"And I thought you were my friend." Draco said, scoffing.

"Yes, I've been told I'm a good actor."

"Whoever told you that must have been a bloody good actor themselves to convince you of that load."

Blaise was about to replied with a very rude word when a knock one their door interrupted them.

"Draco?" A voice, unfortunately very recognizable, called. "Are you in there?"

"Sorry Pansy, Draco's not in right now." Draco hollered.

"Oh clever plan." Blaise murmured. "She'll never see through that."

"I know that's you, Draco." Pansy said impatiently.

"I'm not Draco! I'm Blaise. Just because I'm the less attractive, poor one doesn't mean I don't have feelings. It really hurts when you get my name wrong." Draco called.

"If you're Blaise then whom are you in there talking to?"

"Sue?"

They heard Pansy sigh heavily. "Draco darling, you're making this very difficult for me."

"What a shame." Draco muttered.

"This is ridiculous." Blaise said he, much to Draco's annoyance, opened the door.

"Traitor." Draco said, glaring. Pansy, for her part, was a very forgiving creature (in this case forgiving, in Draco's opinion, meaning that a black hole in the outer reaches of deep space would have been brighter) and wasted no time in sidling up and wrapping her arm in his. Apparently she was completely oblivious to the fact, or just didn't care that only a moment before he'd been yelling at her through a door in a desperate attempt to get her to leave.

"Draco, love, Professor Snape wants to see you." Pansy said. "I'll walk you down."

"I'd really rather you didn't." He responded, to which Pansy just giggled obscenely loudly and looked at Blaise.

"Isn't he just so funny?" She asked, and then without waiting for an answer dragged Draco through the doorway and up the stairs. Over the sound of their footsteps Blaise could hear Draco asked, "Hey Pansy, you think I'm manly right?"

And even if they hadn't drifted out of earshot before she replied, Blaise wouldn't have been able to hear them over his own laughter.

* * *

"Hey Ginny, wait up." 

Having walked Luna to the Ravenclaw common room and Neville to the greenhouse (proudly displaying his new book to an admiring Professor Sprout), Ginny was ready to get back to her room to pack. Hermione had been furious when she'd seen that she wasn't ready to leave. But it really wasn't fair to blame her. Between the infirmary, quidditch, homework, and last minute Christmas shopping, it wasn't as though there was much spare time in her schedule.

"Hey…come on Ginny!"

Despite her better judgment, she turned. "Oh, hey Seamus. What's up?"

"Nothing." He was, Ginny noticed, blushing. "Look, I have a huge favor to ask you. And, well, it's just, you're basically the only girl friend I have and…I'm way over my head. I really need your help." He put his hand on her shoulder and she felt her face flush.

_Calm down, Ginny! Since when are you the kind of girl that swoons? You don't even like Seamus._

She took a deep breath and prayed her face wasn't red.

"Are you all right, Seamus?"

"Yeah…that probably wasn't the best way to start that, but I'm pretty desperate. Hannah and I've been dating for a couple of months now and I want to get her something really nice for Christmas, only I have no idea what and I just really don't want to get her something really stupid like a cheap charm bracelet or makeup or anything dumb like that."

When she recovered from the shock of his amazing ability to turn a whole paragraph into a single sentence to be delivered in one breath, she was struck with the whole new jolt that he would actually ask his _ex _to help him pick out a gift for his _girlfriend._

Okay, technically she had to admit she wasn't officially his ex considering they'd never _actually_ gone out, but the principal of the matter was still the same.

"I-ah-"

"Please, Ginny?" He said, looking at her with those pretty blue eyes of his.

"Isn't there someone else you could ask?"

"Not really, I've never had to shop for girls before. I mean, if it was you I'd just buy a broom cleaning kit or something, but Hannah's not like that. She hates it when I treat her like one of the guys."

One of the guys? Was that how he thought of her? Still, she _had_ stood him up for their first date. Could she really blame him for not wanting to date her anymore?

"I want to get her something really nice." He said and the look in his eyes hurt her so much she couldn't stand it. It wasn't because it was Seamus talking about another girl, it was just the fact that she could tell he really, truly cared about her. He had the same look in his eyes that her parents had when they looked at each other and the same look that Ron and Hermione gave each other when they thought no one was looking. She wanted someone to look at her like that. Someone who would care about her and be there for her. Of course she had her friends, but it just wasn't the same.

She sighed, cursing herself for being so darn nice. "Of course I'll help you. I have to go, but we'll do it over break sometime?"

He grinned. "Thanks, Gin, you're a lifesaver. I'll floo you all right?"

She sighed. It was Friday evening and she had exactly twelve hours before the train left in the morning. Twelve hours to figure out how she was going to explain to her parents why Draco Malfoy had followed her home.

* * *

Okay...not liking this chapter very much. I'm sorry. I promise the next chapter will be better (and faster!). Please review! Thanks to all of you who already have! I lurve you so much! I also promise that the end is near! This story will not (contrary to popular) belief go on forever. 


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all! Er...I'm late, I know. Anyway, just a few things, first this story just passed the one year mark! Well, actually that happened last chapter and I just forgot to mention it, I had to sleep on the couch for weeks. (Thanks to yrouna for reminding me). So I'd just like to thank all of you who haven't given up on me and my irratic posting habits. I love you all so much!

Also, I will probably be doing some minor editing of earlier chapters (just to check for errors and things like that) and so if you get a New Chapter Alert! don't get too excited, it might just be me editing.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Not a thing. Well, the plot, but I don't always want to claim that.

* * *

"But seriously, I mean like, how would it steer?" 

"I don't _know_, Ginny!" Colin said, clearly exasperated.

"Circles!" She called in her a singsong voice.

"I don't care what you say, just because a duck only has one foot does _not_ mean it can only swim in circles!" Colin cried.

"I happen to agree with Ginny." Luna, who had decided (much to Ginny's delight) to come home for the holiday, said happily. Ginny grabbed her hand and grinned.

"I _knew_ there was a reason you were my best friend." She said.

"Hey! I thought I was your best friend." Colin said indignantly.

She glared. "You don't think one-footed ducks swim in circles."

"I'll tell you what," He said, "If you ever find a one-footed duck swimming in circles, I'll concede with you're superior duck knowledge."

She grinned. "Don't bother sucking up now. You've already been replaced."

"Ah, Ginny, don't be like that." He said, placing a hand on her thigh, purposefully squeezing a bit, just above her knee. For a moment her face reddened as she tried to bite back laughter. Finally, she succumbed and opened her mouth, admitting several loud, unladylike peals of laughter.

"Darn you Colin! You know that's my tickling spot." She said, making an amusing attempt to glare and giggle at the same time.

"Really? I'd forgotten." And, abandoning all pretenses leapt up from his seat and began tickling her mercilessly. Ginny, who unfortunately had not had the foresight to release Luna's hand, collapsed onto the floor pulling an irritated Luna with her. As the two tumbled unceremoniously to the floor, Colin took this opportunity to pounce. Ruthlessly, he raked his fingers up and down her sides as she emitted aloud squeals. Ginny tried to roll over, only to find herself more entangled with Luna, who was now smiling brightly at her friends antics. Her expression changed after a moment from supreme amusement to a cringe as Ginny elbowed her repeatedly in the ribs in her mad attempt to escape from Colin.

And that, Luna and Colin on the floor with Ginny between them, was how Blaise Zabini found them as he slid open the compartment door.

"Well," He said and whistled approvingly, "Congratulations, Creevey." He was grinning crookedly.

"We weren't-I mean we didn't- it's-"

"He was just joking, Colin." Ginny said, her face flushed from laughter. She propped herself up on one arm and rested her cheek on her palm. It suited her. Only Ginny, Blaise thought, could manage to look perfectly at ease on the floor like that.

"Of course," A voice drawled as Draco Malfoy, looking either bored or amused, stepped from behind Blaise into the compartment. "We're not that optimistic."

"What are you doing here?" Colin asked, voice laden with displeasure.

"Well, it's generally called standing. In a second I'll walk over to that bench there and sit. I'd explain that concept, but it gets a bit technical." Draco deadpanned. Blaise grinned.

"Go away, Malfoy." Colin said sourly.

"I would if I could. Or, actually, I probably wouldn't. I'd probably just stand here and see how red your face can get before you explode." He sneered and took a step towards Colin. Meeting the challenge, Colin too stepped forward. Blaise, thank Merlin for him, derailed any possible conflict by smoothly inserting himself between the two boys and explaining, "There aren't any empty seats, unless of course you want us to sit with Pansy. Not even _you _could hate Draco enough to wish upon him."

He smiled and Ginny could see how he had ended up in Slytherin. It wasn't so much what he had said as it was _how_ he said it. He had combined that gentle, _now-you-don'- _really-_want-to-do that- now do-you?-_voice with his charming smile and had, that easily, soothed both boys. Manipulative little thing. She'd have to remember that.

"Besides," Draco said, almost sulkily, "I wouldn't stay here with _her_, if I had any sort of choice."

"Oh, just give up, Malfoy." Ginny said, ginning as she untangled herself from Colin and Luna and stood. "You know you love me."

"It's not love if I have to pay for it, puppet." He said.

She grinned. "I charge you double." And for a second she glared, then, suddenly, burst out laughing. Draco was startled, he stared, opened mouthed for a long moment before, slowly he began to laugh too. Ginny doubled over, still laughing and the more pleased she became, the more Draco had to laugh too. Blaise, Colin and Luna stared. It was Blaise who laughed first, holding onto Draco for support, growing only louder as the other two joined in,.

Luna, laughing insanely loud and panting for breath and grasped Blaise's shoulders just to keep upright. Everyone, except Luna herself, noticed when Blaise abruptly stopped laughing and looked, delightedly, at the slender, pale hand on his arm.

"First Colin, now Blaise, I had no idea Ravenclaws were so easy." Draco said Colin blushed and Ginny glared, but Luna was still snorting and Blaise was too busy looking strangely pleased for either of them to notice.

Draco shook his head and sighed, placing a consoling hand on Blaise's arm. "I've lost you. You went and fell in love with Looney Lovegood."

Luna had removed her hands and was wiping mirthful tears from her eyes. She stiffened at the use of her less than flattering nickname.

"Well," Blaise said, "At least I didn't fall for a Gryffindor. _Oh Ginny, you're so beautiful. Oh Ginny, I want to have you babies. Oh Ginny, I loooooovvvvvvvveeee you._"

Draco fumed and was, Ginny was quite sure, about to have words with Blaise. Four letter words in particular.

"I knew it!" She cried, grinning. "I knew you loved me."

"In your dreams, Weasley." He said, too angry to sound indignant.

"Actually Draco, I believe those were _your _dreams." She grinned again.

He frowned an opened his mouth to retort, but closed it wordlessly only a second later, and Ginny got the feeling this was one of the few times she had won.

The rest of the ride couldn't really have been described as pleasant, but it didn't leave Ginny feeling the need to gnaw off one of her own limbs as encounters with him usually did. There were of course the standard remarks about her clothing as she changed out of her school uniform when they neared the station, but all in all he actually seemed to be making an effort to be pleasant. It was the first time in her life Ginny had seen him make an effort to be nice to _anybody_, or at much of anything for that matter.

_Maybe_, she thought, allowing herself just a little hope, _maybe this Christmas won't be so bad after all.

* * *

_

Draco wasn't exactly certain what he should be doing. He had his trunk ready and waited, somewhat impatiently, for Ginny to get hers from the overhead compartment. It wasn't a polite gesture, it was simply a testimony to the pathetic fact that the plan, as it now stood, was _follow Ginny_. He had been worried that they would have to try and justify the fact that Draco Malfoy was waiting for _Ginny Weasley _of all people, but luck was on their side. Luna's father had been waiting to greet them as the train pulled in, snapping pictures with an insanely large camera. Luna had run off the train, trunk whipping behind her so quickly that several first years had to jump back in their seats to avoid being impaled. Blaise had quickly said goodbye, hugged Ginny, sapped Draco on the back, shot him a look that clearly said _don't get into any trouble, _and not-so-subtly scurried off in Luna's wake. Colin murmured something about having to go keep his brother from jumping onto the train tracks again, and, with a quick embrace for Ginny, hurried away.

But that still left him here. Waiting. Ginny was up on her tiptoes, trying to maneuver the enormous trunk down without getting crushed.

"Oh just move over." He snapped and brushed passed her. With the ease that came with being nine inches taller than her, he pulled the trunk down. He loved being tall, not only because, being a full three inches taller, it meant Potter had to look up to him.

"Can we go now?" He asked.

"Ah…well, yeah." She grabbed her trunk and pulled it behind her and Draco followed. Fitting her trunk through the door was not an easy task. Halfway through the jam, the trunk got wedged in the doorway. Clumsily, she lumbered over the thing, nearly falling in the process, but finally righted herself on the other side. Grabbing the handle, she pulled with such comical effort the thing _almost_ moved. Only when she was absolutely positive they was no persuading the massive trunk from its perch did she look at him.

"Isn't there something you could do?" She asked, tapping her foot. With a sigh, he leaned down, shoulder against her trunk. Ginny didn't need to be told what to do; she leaned down once more and grabbed the handle on her end. With him pushing and her pulling, the truck never stood a chance. It was immediately dislodged, sending Ginny tumbling backwards with it.

Draco's trunk was a bit more cooperative; it slid most of the way, only to get caught on the last corner.

"It's never been this hard to get these bloody things out before." He snapped irritably, as he leaned into his trunk. "Someone must have hexed the door. Ha, bloody, ha."

With one great shove, he freed the trunk, only to find himself colliding with Ginny.

"What-"

She stood frozen, back to him, and showed no indication at all of even realizing he had just run straight into her. It took him only a moment to grasp why. Twisting around so he could see past her, he found himself peering at Potter, Granger, and Weasley, all staring with looks of utter bafflement.

"Ginny were you just- were you riding with Malfoy?" Ron asked, too bemused to sound suspicious.

"There weren't any other open seats." She said quickly. Getting over his uncertainty, Ron was beginning to look angry.

"Really Ron," She said soothingly, "You don't think I'd _choose_ to sit with the Mal-Ferret, do you?"

"It's not _you_ I'm worried about." He snapped, looking at Malfoy.

Malfoy sneered, "I wouldn't do anything she didn't ask for."

Ron looked furious. He was about to say something, and probably not anything that he would have repeated if his mother were in the room, but Harry, bless him, interjected. "Ginny, do you need help with that?"

"Oh, no thank you, Harry. I've got it."

Draco snorted.

"Oh!" Ginny said, putting a hand to her forehead. "I've forgotten my bag. I've got to go back for it on second thought Harry, could you take my trunk."

He nodded, taking the handle and the three, Ron sending one last withering glare in Draco's direction, headed off.

"You shouldn't bait him like that." Ginny said reproachfully when they were gone.

"But he makes it so easy." Draco smirked. "Forgot your bag then, did you?"

"Oh do shut up." She snapped. "I couldn't think of anything better and I need to talk to you for a moment. If this is going to work, I need you to follow my lead."

"And do what?"

"Just go along with it."

"That's all I get? Go along with it? What kind of plan is that?"

But she was already walking away and he, Merlin help him, was back to following Ginny.

* * *

"Oh no." Ginny said, as they stepped out of the platform. The stationed was packed with travelers going home for the holiday; all around them they could hear the happy greetings of families. But none of that seemed to be what was bothering her. Draco followed her gaze. Even in the crowd it was hard to miss the woman, standing on her tiptoes, waving at Ginny. Namely because she had hair in the brightest shade of bubblegum pink Draco could have ever imagined. And next to her were three towering redheads. One was unfortunately Ron; also hard to miss because he stood nearly a head taller than anyone else in the crowd, and beside him was Mr. Weasley, who Draco remembered vaguely. The third, Draco didn't recognize. 

Harry was kneeling down, being happily licked by a huge, black dog. Hermione smiled, almost reproachfully, as the creature chased its tail, barked jovially at a few passing people, and returned to Harry.

Ginny, however, was staring at the short, hunched figure that seemed to be barking orders at the pink-haired girl. As they approached, Draco realized with horror who exactly the man was. Alastor Moody was quite a sight, eliciting nervous glances from people, even with an eye patch covering his magic eye.

"Well, then." She said, grimacing. "Last chance to run."

He too cringed. "Well, you know what they say, that which does not kill you…"

"Only makes you stronger." She finished wearily. He gave he a queer look.

"Only delays the inevitable." He corrected.

She laughed, and Draco decided it was a sound he rather liked. It was gently and not forced. There was absolutely nothing about it that implied that she was laughing for his benefit, which Draco had noticed most females seemed apt to think; that the male ego was so fragile that they would be insulted if not completely _devastated_ when a girl didn't giggle obscenely loudly at every one of jokes. The only problem with that was with Draco most of his jokes went quietly over their heads, completely unnoticed. Sometimes Pansy and her friends would give hi looks as though they were trying to figure out if what he said was funny or not. Sometimes, they'd still laugh, not having got the joke at all but knowing that it _must _have been clever, most times, however, they'd just nod.

But Ginny was different. He wouldn't describe her laughter like the sweets ringing of bells on the distant horizon, as he'd known some poets to do; her laughter didn't sound like bells, it sounded like human laughter. In fact, it didn't _sound_ remarkably unlike anyone else's laughter. It was perhaps more than anything, what it did to her face that he liked. When she laughed her whole face lit up, and it was so truly happy that it made everyone around her smile too.

Draco almost smiled. He was talking about her almost as I they were friends, which of course, they weren't. Even if he was beginning to like the girl, it didn't make them friends.

He paused at his own thoughts. Did he like her? He thought for a moment, before deciding that yes, he did, if only a little. One of the things Draco demanded of himself was that he should never lie to himself, even if the truth was brutal. But he had to admit that in the past few days he'd grown almost- no, not fond, that was too strong. He couldn't really think of a word to describe what they were. It fell somewhere between tolerance and familiarity.

"Don't get to close." Ginny advised, pulling him abruptly from his thought. "They can smell fear."

Only after a moment did he realize she was talking about the group that stood, waiting now impatiently for her to come.

"Don't worry. Just follow my lead." She said, smiling. And Draco, in the spirit of self-actualization, admitted what he might have already decided, but hadn't wanted to admit; Ginny was very pretty, even if she was a Weasley. It almost made him sad, knowing he could never have something so very exquisite. He was, after all, never one for second best.

"I hate you Weasley."

Still smiling, she responded, "Right back at you, Malfoy."

With that, she grabbed the handle of his trunk and began fighting her way through the crowd toward the group, that Draco could now see also included the former Professor Lupin. He watched her go for a moment, eyes following the gentle sway of her hips as she walked, allowing himself to enjoy the sight.

_Maybe, _he thought smirking as Ginny turned around and smiled at him, clearly waiting for him to follow, _this holiday won't be so bad after all.

* * *

So, brave reader, I applaud you! You made it through yet another chapter. Let me say that I don't know if I like end...it'll get better next chapter. Anyways thanks sooo much to those of you who take the time to review. _

And may I say, Master Sirius Black, that even though I can no longer delete you I CAN BLOCK you so there! (sticks out tounge) Just because I got the smarter genes in the family doesn't mean you have to be jealous (pats head)


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

I hate laptops and like nine pages of this chapter was written on one. My dad let me take his on our road trip (a 24 hour car ride to Ohio) so I could finish this chapter. In fact, I finished this in mid-Kentucky.So, happy Christmas.

Disclaimer: It's one o'clock in the morning. I'll think of something clever to say in twelve hours or so.

* * *

Ginny hugged her Dad and the other redhead, whom Draco assumed to be one of her older brothers. She smiled warmly as the girl shook her hand enthusiastically. It was only then that Draco remembered who else was there: Moody. He felt a shiver go down his spine and forced down painful ferrety mermories. So far, no one had addressed the fact that Draco was still there, trailing only a step or two away from Ginny. But Mad-Eye was following his every move with his magic eye; even if _he_ couldn't see through the patch he knew very well Moody could. Ron, too, was now beginning to look suspicious.

Ginny greeted Mad-Eye warmly and he grunted a hello, but Draco could still feel the roving blue eye upon him.

Finally, Ron could take no more. "What are just standing there for?"

Everyone who had not previously seen Draco snapped their attention to him. Even the great lumbering dog stopped his playing to stare at him.

"Go on Malfoy." Harry said coolly.

The use of his name seemed to bring them into focus. Moody, who had apparently been trying to place him, had his wand out and aimed in less than a second. The older Weasley son had never met him, but had apparently heard enough from his younger siblings to put a hand to his wand, even if he did have the restraint not to draw it. Lupin and Mr. Weasley looked at him with alarm. The dog let out a low, menacing growl.

For a moment he faltered between making a snarky comment or telling the truth, and had just decided to tell Potter some rather uncomfortable places he could store his broomstick, when Ginny interrupted.

"He's coming home with us." She said, somewhere between commanding and hopeful.

Lupin was the first to say anything. "Moody, for goodness sakes, put that wand down. The muggles!"

It was true; they had already left the platform and were surrounded by muggles who were giving them strange looks. They didn't need any other reason for the people to get suspicious.

"Ginny, what are you talking about?" Ron asked, utterly bewildered and not just a little angry.

"He needed a place to stay." She said shortly. "So he's coming home with us."

"Absolutely not." Moody barked, not lowering his wand. "Completely against operating procedure."

"Moody." Mr. Weasley said.

"This is exactly the kind of trick we should have expected." Moody said.

"Perhaps," Lupin said, "it would be better if we did this somewhere else."

"Why don't we go ahead and portkey to the checkpoint." The Hermione said reasonable. Lupin and Mr. Weasley all nodded their agreement.

"And let them ambush us? Use your heads!" Moody snapped.

Ginny hesitated. She had had that exact thought more times than she could count. What if Draco was just using her to spy on the Order. Well it wasn't like she really had a choice, besides she knew Draco hated his father. There was no doubting it. His whole face darkened even at the mention of Lucius and no one, not even the famous Draco Malfoy could be that good of an actor. "No," She said, "there's no ambush."

* * *

"But he's a _Malfoy_!" Ron cried, outraged. 

"Yes, we've already established that. Now why don't you go be good boy and let mummy and daddy talk for a while?" Ginny's other brother (who she'd quietly named as Charlie) snapped as Ron reminded them for the _fifteenth _time that Draco was in fact a Malfoy.

"Don't you condescend to me." Ron ordered.

"Then don't act like a prat." Charlie bit back.

It had taken them nearly a quarter of an hour to convince Moody (plus Ron, Harry, and Charlie for that matter) to use the portkey. The argument would have, no doubt, lived longer if a ticket-taker hadn't come and distastefully asked them to move along. They now had another twenty minutes of arguing under they belts and were, as far as Draco could see, no closer to a conclusion.

He had long ago settled against a large tree, dead and hard for the winter, and closed his eyes, tuning out the argument. And no one had bothered him. They hadn't even consulted him at all. Ginny could figure it out. In the meanwhile, he could sleep.

"Listen." Ginny said harshly, rounding on her father. Draco had heard her use that voice before. It was the voice she used at the end of _every _argument. "I can't say why just yet, but I promise as soon as we're home I can explain things better to you and Mum. Until then, you'll just have to trust me. If you can't do that, well then I guess there's really no other solution than to just leave me here because I am not going anywhere without Draco."

He felt irrationally nettled at the use of his first name and opened his eyes to glare at her, but their attention had long drifted away for him.

_Right, because it's not like this argument is actually _about _me or anything._

He couldn't explain his annoyance, after all she had used his name several times before and it had never bothered him. For a moment he tired to decide whether she had slipped into using his first name because that was how she thought of him now, as Draco, or if she was just caught in the moment. She was, he settled on, just using it for dramatic affect.

Which she had achieved.

After a long pause, Lupin sighed heavily and looked at Mr. Weasley. "It's your house Arthur, the decision is yours."

He took a long look at his daughter, who stood, somewhat flushed but proud, with her chin held high.

"Fine." He looked at Draco, not looking particularly pleased with his own decision. "We'll take him back to the house and see what Dumbledore has to say. _After _Ginny and I have a long talk."

Ginny threw her arms happily around her father.

And then there was quite a bit of bustle collecting all their things they had set down. Harry had been sitting on his trunk with the dog beside him. Hermione had let Crookshanks out to stretch and was now calling up to him where he lounging on a branch just out of her reaches. Ron, red faced and mumbling went to go help her. Moody watched them, magic eye scrutinizing every motion. He was mumbling as much as Ron, only much louder and, Draco suspected with the intention of being heard.

"Well," The pink haired girl who seemed to be called Tonks (Tonks?) said, "What now?"

The portkey had taken them to a small, snowy hill on the other side of which Draco could just barely make out the lights of a village. Other than that, it was completely deserted.

"Now," Lupin answered. "We walk."

The trek to the village wasn't long, and wouldn't have been bad if it hadn't snowed so recently. He was in excellent shape from Seeking; he had walked more than twice this distance (no more than two miles) more times than he could count while he was training. As it was, the fresh fallen flakes were large and wet, and Italian leather and snow didn't mix very well. He had, not anticipating an icy jaunt, worn his lightest cloak, and the cold was indomitable and no matter of rubbing his hands together or shoving them deep into his pockets would help. Ginny was by no matter making it easier. She was in such high spirits that she kept stopping and twirling in the snow, kicking up the little crystals, running ahead of the group. Only when Mad-Eye yelled at her to stay with the group (she had gotten well up ahead) did she stop.

She grinned at him when he caught up. "Poor Malfoy." She said playfully. "Too much work? Need to stop and have a little lie down?"

"A tempting offer, but we've entirely not enough privacy. I've done some crazy things, but in the snow with your father watching?"

She didn't even rise to the jab.

"What's gone and made you so darn cheerful?" He grunted.

"Snow." She answered, sneaking in another twirl. "I love snow."

"It's just frozen water, Weasley."

"No, it's magical." She said and even as she spoke snowflakes started falling anew. She stopped and stuck out her tongue, hoping to catch some.

* * *

"I'm not getting in that." 

"Oh really, Malfoy. For goodness sakes. It's perfectly safe." Hermione said, clearly annoyed.

"I'm. _Not. _Getting. In. That." He said, saying each word slowly and purposefully.

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh and looked entreatingly at Professor Lupin, obviously tired of being rational.

He sighed heavily. "Muggles do it all the time, Draco."

"They also spend their days sitting watching a _box _but you don't bloody well expect me to do that too!" He snapped.

"If you're referring to _television_," Mister Weasley began excitedly, making sure to pronounce the word correctly. "It's really quite interesting-"

Charlie put a restraining hand on his father's shoulder. "Maybe now's not the time, Dad."

He looked devastated. "Well, no I suppose not." But he still looked hopefully back up at him, as though he expected that at any moment Draco would intercede and tell him how he couldn't _possible_ wait to hear something so amazing. When he did no such thing, Mr. Weasley lowered his voice conspiringly and whispered, "Later."

"Well," Ron said irritably. "I say if he won't come we just shove him in the boot."

Draco looked mortified. The glaring metal monstrosity was, as far as he was concerned, a general affront to nature. It was old, slightly rusty around the tires and the paint was chipped in places.

Then Ginny began laughing so absurdly loudly that a few people passing on the street turned to see what was happening. She doubled over, clutching her stomach and no matter how much he liked her laugh he didn't like it at _his _expense. And that certainly seemed like what was happening here.

"What?" He snapped.

"You- Poor ickle, Drackie, you're afraid of the car aren't you?" She said with wicked glee.

He puffed up a bit. "I'm not afraid. There is a very thick line between fear and common sense."

"The great Draco Malfoy! Afraid of cars! What would the other Slytherins say about this?"

"Probably, 'spot on, good chap, I wouldn't get in that muggle death trap either.'" He said.

Only she couldn't be persuaded to stop laughing. No matter what he said, she only laughed more widely. "I'm not afraid." He snapped again, but she was gasping for breath so loudly he doubted she even heard.

Angrily he stormed up to the thing, threw open the door- was it supposed to creak like that? - and got inside. He looked smugly up at her and was pleased to note she had stopped laughing. Quickly, she got in beside him. It wasn't until he she was settled neatly beside him and he began to notice the faint smell of old shoes and musty pine did he realized how easily she manipulated him. Why, he'd fallen for the oldest trick in the book!

He didn't say anything as Moody, Tonks and Lupin entered the car. It seemed that the group could do nothing without discord. There had been a fifteen-minute debate on riding arrangements. They had originally planned to only rent one automobile, an extremely tight fit. But with the addition of Draco and his luggage there was absolutely no possible ways of fitting all eleven bodies _and _all the trunks in one car. So, another had been rented. This led to the question of seating. Moody insisted that he ride with Harry, who in turn insisted that he not be separated from Ron, Hermione, and the big shaggy dog. Mr. Weasley didn't want to be separated from his children, but no one but Ginny would agree to ride with Draco. Moody also asserted, not very delicately, that at least two guards should stay with "the Malfoy spawn", as he had taken to affectionately calling him. Finally, Mad-eye decided that he was the only one capable of keeping Draco's evil ploys at bay and immediately change positions, insisting that _he _stay with Draco. Lupin and Tonks hovered over the whole scene, staying close at each other's side and not saying much. Finally, after much deliberation, it was decided that Charlie, Mr. Weasley, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and the dog (quite curious, that they'd made as much fuss about where the dog should be placed as they had anyone else), should ride in the first car, and the others would follow in the second.

"Nice work, Weasley." He whispered in her ear once the adults had settled in the front seat. "I almost believed that I wasn't manipulated into that. We may make a Slytherin out of you yet."

She smirked. "You act marvelously for someone who didn't know they were being manipulated."

He was about to retort, when the great, ambling car, lurched into motion. Moody (to everyone's dismay) was driving. Draco, quite against his will, let out a small cry. Ginny laughed and grabbed his hand. For a moment he stared, shocked, but she wasn't facing him. Instead she was looking gleefully at the scenery passing by through his window. He didn't even think she realized what she had done. It was something she would have done to one of her brothers, to Harry. Comfort, he reminded himself, was her nature.

He considered letting go, but the ride was bumpy and uncomfortable and though he wouldn't admit it, he was shaking. This was at least fifty times worse than riding a broom. At least, on a broom, he could trust his own skill, but now he was forced to rely on Moody and it was a helpless, scary feeling. And her touch, her thumb absently stroking his hand, was much more comforting than it should have been.

"Don't worry." She whispered, "It's always scary the first time."

He didn't even bother to abject to her allegation "You've done this before?" He shouldn't have been surprised, after all, look who her father was.

She nodded. "We used to have one enchanted to fly."

He mentally slapped himself; how could he have forgotten that? He was the one who had gotten it taken away! Well, his father had gotten it taken away; he had just mocked Ron endlessly for it. How convenient that she hadn't mentioned that.

"It must have been brilliant." He said softly, and she looked up at him in shock. That, coming from him, was almost an apology. She smiled brightly, and then, seeming to realize that she had his hand in her grasp, she dropped it suddenly.

"I just figured that you wanted to hold my hand." He said innocently when she looked at him. "Who was I to deny you that pleasure?"

She slapped him, softly, on the shoulder.

Tonks turned around, grinning. "Careful, wouldn't want Mad-Eye to think your evil plots unraveling. At least not until he stops driving."

Ginny laughed.

The pink haired girl slapped her forehead. "And here I am carrying on like you remember me. Of course you don't! I'm Tonks." She extended a hand for Draco to shake, which he did, hesitantly.

"I'm your cousin." She declared happily. "On your mum's side of course. No wonder you don't recognize me. Not much of a family resemblance, I'd say. What do you think, Remus darling?"

Draco thought he saw Remus stiffen, but Lupin tweaked her nose and grinned. "Not now." He said.

She grinned back at him and then, quite literally before Draco's eyes, she began to change. Her hair grew longer and hung straight and black, her cheekbones shifted noticeably higher on her face. She blinked several times and upon opening them the last time, Draco saw they had change from blue to the trademark gray Malfoy eyes. She did indeed now look like she could have been related to him.

Tonks wrinkled her nose. "Whaddaya think?" She asked Lupin, "Wanna come home to this every night?"

He laughed. "_Please _change back."

"You don't like it then? You said you'd love me no matter what." She said, batting her eyelashes.

This time Lupin _did _cringe. "Nymp-"

"If you call me Nymphadora, so help me I'll call of this wedding right now. How many times do I have to tell you-" She snapped, changing, much more quickly, back into her (relatively) normal self.

"About as many times as I have to tell you I don't want everyone to know about us yet." Remus interrupted calmly.

"Oh, Remus, we'll be married in a few months anyways. It's not like everyone won't find out then."

"But until then." He said, "I'd feel much safer if you didn't go around telling everyone you meet about-"

"That's enough!" Moody barked suddenly, and the two stopped arguing.

The two's engagement was, of course, already common knowledge to all Order members, and Ginny doubted Lupin would have had such a problem with Tonks talking about it if she weren't talking to _the _Draco Malfoy. He was adorably overprotective of the younger girl.

"Stupid lovers quarrels. This is exactly why members of a team shouldn't get involved. If you two don't shove it, I'll take you off assignment until you're too old and gray to want to do _anything _with each other." Mad-Eye growled.

"Which isn't too far away of dear old Lupin here! Why look at him, gray hair already." Tonks said.

At first Ginny had been shocked to see Tonks saying things like that so casually. She was almost continually bringing up the very things that had made Lupin so uncomfortable with their relationship: his age, the fact that they worked so closely together, and most importantly his lycanthropy. But the more Tonks joked, the better Remus seemed to take it. It was almost as though they thought belittling the problem would make it go away. Then, Ginny realized that Tonks _wasn't _belittling it, she was doing the opposite. She was showing Lupin that these things were already a part of her life; she was accepting them and treating them like she would anything else.

Lupin didn't say anything, but Ginny saw him take the girl's hand. And again, Ginny felt that pang in her chest. It was the same one she got when she saw Ron and Hermione making up after a fight, the same one she got when she saw Hannah slide her hand into Seamus's.

_Ginny Weasley, when did you become such a hopeless romantic? _She asked herself, almost smiling.

Draco she noticed, was still sitting straight up, looking alertly out of the windows. She grinned. "Feeling okay, Malfoy?" She asked cheerily.

"Just peachy. Explain to me again why we had to ride in these infernal muggle contraptions."

"Because," Moody snapped irritably, turning around to face him. His magical eye was rolled back in his head, no doubt still watching the road but it was still not assuring. Draco shuddered and could see Lupin eyeing the wheel warily. "The younger ones can't apparate and portkeys are easily traceably. Not that it matters much now. We might as well just have handed Voldermort the coordinates of-"

Ginny could _feel_ Draco growing angry beside her and was about to interject when Lupin did it for her. "Alastor." He said warningly.

Not happily, the man fell silent and turned back towards the road.

Ginny smiled to herself as she heard Draco exhale loudly. She paused to watch the scenery go by and when she looked back at him he had turned his head and looked a bit bleary eyed.

"Are you alright?" She asked, this time seriously.

"I feel like I just had five firewhiskeys on an empty stomach." He answered with a slight groan.

"Oh no, I should have warned you. It's motion sickness, from the speed of the car."

He looked vaguely annoyed.

"Try looking out the window." He did as he was instructed.

He looked away almost immediately. "Not a good plan." He said, putting a hand on his stomach.

Lupin had turned around, looking concerned. "Are you alright?"

Draco moaned and glared. He was the only person Ginny could imagine looking simultaneously superior and nauseous.

"Lie down." The former professor ordered. "You'll feel better."

Ginny didn't bother to point out that you weren't supposed to get out of sight of the window, but seeing as the window wasn't helping much she didn't bother. And if Draco Malfoy puked in the car, she could guess who was stuck cleaning it up.

* * *

Draco's nausea only slightly hindered his enjoyment at Ginny's alarmed shake as he laid his head down in her lap. She looked down at him, startled, but didn't say anything. He rolled his head a little and could fell her stiffen even further. He had lain in this exact position with Pansy more times then he cared to remember, and it had never been something he would have classified as comfortable. She had bony legs and always insisted upon playing with the hair just behind his ear as if he were a dog. He probably would have been much more comfortable with his feet resting in Ginny's lap and his head on the seat, but the discomfort his proximity was causing her was much more enjoyable. 

Lupin had been right; lying down had helped ease his stomach. And Ginny's legs weren't nearly as bony as Pansy's. Now, he was feeling well enough to really enjoy the situation. He moaned pathetically and fidgeted a bit more. Hesitantly, she put a hand on his head and began gently moving her fingers through his hair. Her touch wasn't like Pansy's; it was gentler and much more comforting. He closed his eyes and basked in her touch. He was seventeen after all and lying in the lap of a pretty girl. He had decided he was going to make this Christmas enjoyable no matter what it took and if he had his way (and he normally did) then Ginny Weasley was going to have a lot to do with that.

* * *

_Ok, Solana_, I can hear the angryhordes crying, _like seven chapters ago you promised us Christmas and there's still no Christmas_.

So to prevent mass chaos and mobsI can honestly say that by next chapter they will be at the weasley's house. Really this time.

Happy Christams guys, and if you really want to make me happy give me lots of review or my army of armadillos and I might have to cry.


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

Ah, guys I'm so sorry this chapter took FOREVER! But I'm taking Geometry Honors, Spanish II Honors, English Honors AND Business Systems and tech. this term so I've been really busy. Sorry, I'll try and have the next chapter out sooner but I can't make any promises.

Anyway, this chapter is the much anticipated arrive at the Weasley house. Plus, for all of you who have been asking for more of the Weasley brothers, this a short tribute to you, because there's a scene I've been dying to wirte since I first started this fic.

Diclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. Anything you recognize from the HP books is not mine as I, unfortunatly, am not JK Rowling.

* * *

The ride was even more unbearably bumpy as they pulled onto a long, dirt road. After a slow drive, a monstrously large and disproportioned house –could you really call it a house?- came into view. Rooms hung, seemingly suspended by nothing onto the house. Large lopsided add-ons were obviously attached at different times as each was made from a different material and each in a different style. Draco was about to comment on the atrocity when he realized with growing horror what it was. It was _Ginny's_ house. This was the place he'd be staying. He barely restrained himself from cursing. His worst fears confirmed, the car stopped in front of the place and Ginny, with absolute disregard to her trunk still in the back seat, ran out of the car and into the house. He sat there, more than a little uncomfortably, until Tonks looked back at him.

"Coming?" She asked.

He still paused. Lupin smiled understandingly, "Come on, Draco. It'll be alright."

He followed. When he entered the Weasley family had already begun its reunion. Hermione had scurried upstairs to unpack and Ginny was locked in what seemed to be a bone crushing embrace and more redheaded boys then he could count were in a twisting, writhing, pile in the living room floor. As soon as she was released Ginny jumped, feet first into the pile and was received with a loud "oof ".

"Ginny!" Mrs.Weasley cried, mortified. "Ginny! That's not appropriate."

Another redheaded woman, about the same age and looking weary said, "Boys, boys! Molly says stop. Boys!"

"Ow!" The pile cried. "Bill that was my nose!"

"Ew! Ginny! Shave your legs!" Another voice cried.

"That wasn't _my_ leg, Fred." Ginny snapped.

"Ginny, boys, stop that right now!" Mrs. Weasley said again. Harry was hanging back behind the plump woman looking at the group on the floor longingly. Ron, Draco assumed, was already among them.

"Hey," The voice replied. "That wasn't me, it was George."

"I thought you _were_ George." Another voice replied.

"No, I'm Fred." The first answered.

"I'm Fred, you dolt." The other responded.

"Oh, well then who am I?"

"_GEORGE!"_

"Really boys," The second woman said again, "Listen to your aunt!"

"Oh, never mind." Mrs. Weasley said, resigned.

"Ah, Will! You're sitting on my arm!"

"Come on, Harry!" A voice he recognized as Ron's called.

"Um….Mrs. Weasley….?" Harry said, looking beseechingly.

"Oh just go Harry." Mrs. Weasley said. The boy ran, screaming and laughing, into the pile. She turned and for the first time saw Draco, standing uncomfortably in the doorway.

"Who are you?" The woman asked.

"Draco."

"The boys' friend from school?" She asked. Draco wasn't sure what to say, he faltered for a moment before finally just shrugging.

"And I suppose you want to join in too?" She asked sounding worn.

He shook his head no.

"Oh. Well, sit down then. Get comfortable." She said, smiling.

Silently he crossed the room and took a seat. Right about then, Ginny stood up (amidst several loud groans and one cry of "My ribs!") screaming "I'm queen of the mountain!"

Not a second later the bodies under her shifted and she fell back down into the pile. She was in the process of trying to stand again when her father burst through the door, carrying one of their trunks.

"Ginny Weasley, I want a word with you!" He said sternly. "You'd better come too, Molly."

The boys on the floor immediately froze and Ginny, slowly stood up.

Ginny's brothers all looked startled; they weren't used to their father being so stern. It was usually their mother was the one who enforced the rules. Arthur was the who snuck them biscuits before dinner; you had to be in really deep trouble for _Arthur _to yell at you. Then, Ron poked one of the twins and nodded in Draco's direction. One by one the brothers stood and glared. Doing a quick head count, Draco rapidly determined that the he was in even more trouble then he could have imagined. Charlie and Ron, the twins, and Ginny he recognized. He vaguely remembered seeing one of the others, a big tall boy with long red hair, before, but would never have been able to name him. Then there were three others, who were standing, silent and confused and a forth, the youngest and only one not standing, was still on the ground clinging stubbornly to Ginny's leg. Draco was fairly sure he hadn't seen any of them before, although he couldn't be certain. Maybe they just moved around so much he'd never gotten an accurate count.

Ginny quickly detached herself and moved towards her parents. Her eyes never left the floor.

"Ginny?" One of the twins asked.

"What's going on?" The other inquired, glaring at him.

"Ginny, your mother, and I are going to have a talk. If you boys fight while we're gone, so help me, you don't want to know what I'll do to you." Arthur said and then, guiding Ginny firmly with one arm around her shoulders, he wheeled her out of the room. Mrs. Wealsey followed with a baffled expression.

"Boys." The woman in the corner said. "Why don't we go unpack?"

"But mum we want-"

"William Weasley! If you don't get upstairs this instant you won't even _see_ a broom for a month." The woman snapped and ushered her herd up the stairs leaving only the familiar Weasley faces.

"William Weasley. Poor kid." One of the twins said, shaking his head.

His brother patted his shoulder. "It had to be done eventually. I'm just glad it wasn't us."

"Why parents are such suckers for alliteration I'll never know." The first said.

"It is a quandary, Gred. But you know what really baffles me?"

"What Forge?"

"Why Draco Malfoy is in our house and why exactly he thinks he'll leave in one piece."

"You know, I was wondering that myself."

By now all six of the remaining boys had rounded on him. Only Charlie held back slightly, not looking quite as suspicious as his brothers.

"What're you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry asked.

He merely shrugged in response.

The oldest looked suspicious. "That's all the answer you have for us?"

Gritting his teeth and forcing himself to stay calm he responded, "I just don't see how it's any of your business."

"The Mal-Ferret thinks he's staying here for the holiday." Ron said, a bit of triumph in his voice for having known something his brothers didn't.

"Does he now?" Bill asked, looking more than a little suspicious. "And why is that?"

"Ginny." Ron answered. "I don't know what he's got over her, but-"

"Do you ever shut up?" Draco snapped, losing the battle to stay calm.

"Come off it Malfoy." Harry said. "Did you really expect us to believe that Ginny just invited you for a jolly holiday?"

He smirked. "Depends on what exactly you mean by jolly."

"I'm gonna kill you." Ron said, starting forward. Charlie grabbed the back of his shirt to restrain him.

"Gentlemen, gentlemen." One of the twins (Fred, George, did it really even matter?) said. "As much as I'd love to see Malfoy get pummeled we have more urgent needs."

The two boys held up a long, fleshy, chord. The Weasley brothers, plus Harry, abandoned him to surround the twins. Draco had the distinct feeling he was missing something. Then he heard Ginny's voice, loud and clear over the device.

"I already told you I can't!" She was saying.

"Ginny, you can't just expect us to welcome him with open arms. He's-"

"I _know _who he is. It's you that doesn't! Please, I understand why you're upset but-"

"No, Ginny, you don't seem to." Her father answered. "This doesn't just concern you. You are putting our family, the entire Order, everything we've worked for in danger."

"You think I would be doing this if I didn't think it was safe?" She said now, only a degree away from yelling. "Trust me I know-"

"Sweetie," Mrs. Weasley said. "Of course we trust you. It's him we don't trust. Just look who his father is."

"I know you don't trust him but _I_ do! And if you really trust me, then you'll just have to believe me and accept that, because there's nothing else I can tell you."

Draco held his breath for what seemed like forever. Finally he heard a sigh.

"Fine, Ginny, we'll have to talk to Dumbledore of course, but as far as I'm concerned he can stay."

* * *

"Okay, little sister." Fred said, putting an arm around Ginny. "What's you plan?"

"Eh, what do you mean?" Ginny asked, shifting uncomfortably. For the past hour she'd been avoiding her brothers, but they'd finally cornered her. The prying eyes of all six of her brothers and Harry (even Percy who'd apparently been hiding in the kitchen to escape the reunion) gleaming down at her.

"What's your plan to torture Malfoy? Are you blackmailing him?" George asked. He quirked an eyebrow and made a sour frown. "Did you lure him with your feminine wiles?"

"No." She said.

"Good." George answered firmly.

"So you've hexed him?" Prompted Fred.

"No." She said again.

"I knew it." George announced, shacking his head in disgust.

"Ah ha! So _he's _blackmailing _you_!" Fred said indignantly.

"No! There is no blackmail involved!" She cried. Then she paused, knowing that wasn't strictly true. "He just…need a place to stay and I owed him a favor." She said after a moment. That was at least a little closer to the truth.

"So he's hexed her!" George shouted.

"No!"

"Look, Ginny, what ever he's got on you, you can tell us, we won't get mad." Ron said, in what was probably meant to be an assuring manner.

"Look Ronald," She said, keeping only a very forced restraint on her exasperation. "He doesn't _have _anything on me." Which again, was a lie. He had the necklace on her, quite literally. "I was just doing something nice."

"Well, I don't care what you say. That boy is bad road. I don't like this at all." Percy said.

"Well that's at least one reason to like him."Fred murmured.

"Look, I know you won't believe me, but I don't think the kid's all that bad-"

"Gee, thanks for that professional opinion, Charlie. You, having known the prat all of an hour, think he's a pretty okay guy. Well that just changes everything." Fred snapped.

"Hey, back off, George." Bill said.

Ginny felt awful. She was going to kill Malfoy for leaving her alone to deal with he brothers. At least he would have been able to lie to them without compunction, she on the other hand, hated lying to them. At least about something as major as this.

"Guys, listen I'm not going to tell you any more than I told Mum and Dad," Seven mouths opened in protest, "Don't even bother telling me you weren't listening." She snapped, "I'd tell you more if I could. I promise as soon as this is over I'll tell you exactly what's going on. Until then you'll just have to believe me when I say that everything's going to be fine. I trust him."

It was the second time that day she's said those words, and she was surprised to find she almost believed them.

The boys all still looked hesitant. "You don't have to like him." She said, smiling slightly, "You just can't kill him."

There was a long pause.

Finally, Bill sighed and said, "That's a lot to ask, Gin."

* * *

"You know, Weasley," Ginny jumped as she opened her door only to find Draco Malfoy reclining on her bed surrounded by throw pillows. He propped himself up on one arm, "I would have preferred stricter guidelines then 'you can't kill him'. Like the promise of all my limbs."

"Not likely if they see you there." She said, indicating the bed. She made a mental note to remind him later that baby blue daisy throw pillows clashed horribly with his complexion. "How'd you hear that anyway?"

He held up one of the extendable ears. "Your brothers really should keep a closer eye on these things."

"Didn't anybody ever tell you eavesdropping isn't polite?"

"No, actually, my dad told me 'eavesdrop only when you can't find someone expendable to do it for you.'"

She grinned, sitting down on the bed. "Cheery."

"I've got loads of them. He used to always tell me 'the best leaders inspire by example. If that is not an option, brute force and intimidation work just as well.'"

"Yes, that does seem rather like your father doesn't it?" She smiled, almost reminiscently, but her eyes darkened.

"He's a jerk." He found himself saying, before he'd even contemplated the words.

"What?" Ginny asked, looking at him in astonishment.

"My father." He spat, still surprising himself. "He's a complete wanker."

Ginny looked taken aback. For a moment she faltered and Draco could tell she was debating between agreeing, and trying to make him feel better.

"Well, I-I-I don't really _know _him." She managed after a moment.

"Yes you do. Lucius Malfoy is exactly what you think he is."

"I sorry." She said.

"Don't be."

The silence that hung there was long, awkward. She reached up to fiddle with the necklace that still hung at her neck, a nervous habit she had acquired somewhere in the past few months. Then, realizing what she was doing she quickly pulled her hand away and blushed.

"Well then," She said turning around so he wouldn't see her blush, "We'd better get you to your room then."

He grinned. "What, I'm not staying here?"

She turned back to glance at him. He was still propped up amongst her pillows, now giving her a suggestive look. "I'm sorry." She said sweetly, "My bed is much too small for me _and_ your ego."

"That just makes it all the more romantic."

She snorted and turned back away, but he was quite sure he saw he blush a great deal more than she should have been during their regular repartee. On the way up the stairs he made sure to accidentally brush against her shoulder.

He smirked at her back as she quickened her pace. Yes, he could already think of _several _ways to make this holiday more interesting.

* * *

Thanks to all of you who reviewed. Man, I love you guys. Now if you don't want me to hunt you down and attack you viciously, please review. 


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine

I won't even bother to apologize for taking so long to update. You guys must be used to it by now. So, for those of you who haven't given up yet, here's chapter 29! At least its a _long_ chapter (23 pages!)

Disclaimer; I own a bird, six fish, all three Lord of TheRings DVDs, and69 differnt bottlesof nail polish. I don't, however, own Harry Potter.

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"Jingle bells, Snape's hair smells, Flitwick laid an egg. Mcgonagall is off the wall and Trelawney is nuts."

"Amateurs." Fred scoffed, shaking his head, as Ron and Harry skipped, arms locked, up the stairs. "That didn't even rhyme."

"Yeah, well, it's a work in progress." Ginny said grinning.

Fred shook his head. "Oh, by the way, Gin, Mum said to give you these."

He handed her three pales and several rags.

"Ah, thanks." She took them hesitantly and turned, smiling nervously at Draco. "Well, then, come on, we'd better get your stuff up to your room."

He grabbed his trunk from where it had been left by the front door and followed her carefully up the stairs, trying to ignore their strained groans.

"Weasley." He said. "What exactly are those for?'

"Uh, nothing, nothing…"

Ginny's bedroom was on the third landing. The only other room on the floor was a small bathroom directly opposite her door. On either side of her room was a staircase. They took the one on the left.

"Here we are." She said smiling, throwing the door open.

"Merlin." He said, followed by several less than pleasant words.

"Its not that bad." She said, and he noticed she was blushing. "It just needs a bit of sprucing up."

The entire left side of the room was stacked with boxes which at some point had probably been packed up for storage, but had long since been torn open and ransacked. Their contents lay scattered across the room, everything from clothes to cauldrons to an unidentified green furry object poking out from under the beg. The mattress, old and yellow, was set on a rickety frame on the right side of the room, a small, wooden bed stand beside it. Everything was cast with nearly an inch of dust. The wooden floors were grimy and smeared with odd brown stains in several places.

"Not that bad?" He asked incredulously. "It's filthy."

And it was small. The room couldn't have been much bigger then his mother's closet.

"We never use this room. The ghoul used to hang out down here, it's a bit-" She bit her lip and struggled for the right word.

"Why'd he leave, too dirty for him?"

"No." She said firmly. It was bad enough that here, she definitely didn't need him pointing out how inadequate it was. And yes, it wasn't exactly neat, but unlike him, who she was quite sure wouldn't know a cleaning spell to save his life, they couldn't afford a maid. He was just so ungrateful! This was her house and here he was making her feel bad about it.

She huffed. This wasn't like her. She'd never questioned what she had before. She loved this house and the way she lived. And there was no way that Draco Malfoy of all people was suddenly going to make her start.

"You know, you really can be a pig sometimes." She said suddenly.

He looked mildly surprised. "Just trying to blend with my surroundings!"

"At least you have your own room, you could be staying with the twins."

"Right, because that would have gone over well. Your stupid brothers would-"

"Oh just shut up, Malfoy." She snapped. "I opened my house to you and all you can do is insult me and my family. Well, I-"

He laughed, but it wasn't a pleasant sound. "Opened your house to me? I wouldn't even be here if I had given you a choice. You just tell yourself whatever it is that makes you sleep at night, but you're not any better then me, and you know it."

She flushed. "I-"

Ginny broke off, looking down at the floor. She exhaled and stood silent for a moment.

"Here," She said quietly, offering him the rags, "Take these."

She disappeared through the door with the buckets. He stood, staring at his feet until she got back, the pales now full with water. Without a word she snatched one of the rags from his hands and knelt down on the floor and began to scrub.

"What are you doing, Weasley?"

"What does it look like?" She snapped.

"Why don't you just use your wand?"

"No magic outside of school, remember?"

"Oh."

She didn't say anything. He stood, watching for a moment as she pushed the rag fiercely across the floor. He waited until it became apparent that she was not going to give him any instructions, then slowly settled down on the floor beside her and dunked one of the other rags into the water.

They worked in silence for nearly an hour until they had cleaned the entire right side of the floor, and Ginny was still scrubbing with such ferocity that he was certain she'd bored holes into the floor.

There was just something about him that drove her wild. This was their first real fight in a long time and she couldn't even really figure out how it had happened. True, he'd been a royal twit, but she'd just learned to take that for granted, normally letting his comments slide. He really hadn't said anything that should have made her get as angry as she had. It was stupid to let him upset her. Half the time, she got the feeling he didn't even realize how patronizing he was being. She sighed, pausing her work a moment to relax her now stiff fingers, this time she was the one who was at fault.

He was in a new place, full of people he didn't like who, quite frankly, weren't wild about him either. She should have been trying to make him feel more comfortable and instead she had lost her temper.

_You know better,_ she scolded herself, _you know how he is._

She should say something.

"Uh, Malfoy…" She trailed off, not knowing exactly what to say. Somehow she guessed saying "Gee, sorry Malfoy, I just forgot you were a prick and just can't help yourself from being a complete and total prat," wasn't going to make life any easier.

He looked up at her crossly, waiting for her to continue. "Well?"

"I- never mind. Just- just stack those boxes over there would you?"

He wordlessly went to obey. Silently, she fumed. How was it possible with just that one word he had managed to be annoyed, superior, and indifferent all at once?

She walked over to the curtains. At some time they had probably been red, but the now hung brown and dank drowning out all outside light. They would have to be washed. Standing on her tiptoes she reached to take them down from their balance. As soon as she touched the thick fabric she heard a snarl and the material rippled under her touch.

"Ahh!" She called, pulling her hand back quickly. As she watched at least ten little lumps moved behind the curtain until twenty little black eyes peered at her from behind the drapery. "Doxies."

"You have doxies?" Draco asked, sounding somewhere between disgusted and incredulous.

"No one's even been in this room in ages." She said by way of explanation. She went downstairs and found the doxycide and antidote in the cupboard. When she returned Draco was still working but she noticed with a bit of twisted pleasure that he kept looking over his shoulder at the curtains anxiously. Obviously, he wasn't going to help her spray.

There were more of the furry creatures then she had originally thought, and they moved wickedly fast. She effectively stunned at least seven of them and the curtain was still rippling wildly to avoid her reach. She sprayed again, and her small black victim fell to the floor. She quickly bent to retrieve it. Just as her hand closed around the hairy body of the creature, a set of very sharp teeth closed on her hand.

She shrieked as she looked down at the doxy, which had been lying in wait at the bottom of the draperies. She pulled her hand away quickly, but the stubborn little thing clamped its teeth down further and hung on, flailing its limbs wildly.

"Ow, you stupid little bugger! Let go!" She waved her hand in the air, which proved to be a stupid thing to do as the doxy only bit harder to avoid being thrown across the room.

"Stop that, Weasley." Draco snapped, she stopped waving her arm and found him beside her. He grabbed hold of the creature with one hand and with the other he pulled the trigger of the spray bottle, drenching the thing in the noxious smelling doxycide.

"Here, just stay still." He said. Carefully, he pried the jaws of the doxy off her hand.

She bit her lip and held back tears. She'd been bitten by a doxy before but this one clearly had some sort of personal grudge against her. It had gotten hold of the soft skin between her thumb and index finger and the cut was bleeding profusely.

Draco gingerly wiped the blood away with a rag. When he had cleared it away, she could see two small punctures that pierced almost completely through the thin bit of skin. She winced when he uncorked the antidote and rubbed it over the sore.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked, pulling away a little.

"No." She said, trying to smile. "It just stings."

"Do you have any bandages?"

"Uh…" She couldn't quite remember if they did or not, if so they were probably downstairs in her bathroom. He followed her down the short flight of stairs. She jumped up and seated herself on the vanity by the sink, and began rummaging through the little cabinet mounted on the wall.

"Aha!" She said after a minute of searching. "Bandages!"

She tried to unroll a length from the spool, but she found it nearly impossible with one hand.

"Oh, just give it here." Draco snapped, grabbing the bandages from her. He carefully began to wrap her hand. She sat quietly impressed with how gentle his touch was. She studied his hands, his long, soft fingers occasionally brushing against her skin.

"You should know where your bandages are." He said, not looking up but continuing to stare intently at her hand as he worked. "If there was an emergency you should know."

Ginny grinned. "Aww…. is poor wittle Drakie afraid I might get hurt?"

He paused and looked up at her for a moment. Then continued working without a word. It was odd, to be seated like this with him. His touch was almost…. no brotherly wasn't the right word. Her brothers would have never taken such care over something as small as a doxy bite. But still, the tenderness with which he wrapped her small hand was surprising.

The longer he sat silently working the more she felt the guilt from their argument earlier mounting on her. "Draco…"

He tied off the bandage.

"Look…I just…I'm sorry…about earlier, I…" She paused, trying to formulate an acceptable apology. "I-Oww! What was that for?"

He had taken hold of her hand and was gripping it painfully.

"Pressure. I wanted to stop the bleeding." He said simply, but she could see a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"Fine. No apology for you." She said haughtily.

"Oh is that what you were trying to do?" He asked, smirking.

"Well, what did you expect, a bouquet of roses and a singing telegram?"

"No thanks. I haven't forgotten your _last _singing valentine."

"That was uncalled for. I was eleven for Merlin's sake!" She said.

"How did it go? Some thing about 'eyes as green as pickled toads'?"

"I'm never listening to Luna again." She murmured.

"Well, I'd say your first mistake was listening to Luna at all."

"If this is your attempt at being nice you're failing miserably."

"Actually," He said, "I believe you were the one who was apologizing. Let's get back to that shall we? Hmm…I could have you write 'Draco's a hot muffin' in all the girls loos."

She scoffed.

"Oh, you're right. That's already there."

"The boy's more likely." She said playfully.

"Well, I can't help being so devastatingly attractive."

"Well you don't exactly discourage the notion, the way you strut around."

"I," He said arrogantly, "do not strut."

"Oh please." She said laughing. "Your hips swing more than mine do."

He smirked.

"What?"

"Why exactly have you been watching my hips, Weasley?"

She blushed. That was most certainly _not _what she had meant. She opened her mouth to protest, but she found she couldn't think of a suitable response.

"Although," He said, grinning crookedly. "I don't know that I believe you. You do have a bit of sway, don't you?"

"I can't decide whether I should be flattered or disgusted."

He didn't say anything. Suddenly she blushed, realizing he still had her hand in his warm grasp.

"I- I am sorry- about before- I- I didn't really-"

He shrugged, looking up to meet her eyes. "Me too, Weasley."

They were so very close. Seated on the vanity, she was just barely taller than him. She for the first time noticed how very beautiful his eyes were. Grey, but suddenly not impassive, filled with an emotion she couldn't quite place. Her leg was lightly touching the side of his chest where it lay and she could feel his muscles contact as he breathed. He leaned almost imperceptivity closer and…

_Too close! Too close!_

She coughed uncomfortably and leaned away a little. He paused, seemingly unaware that he'd gotten so close to her. He stepped back quickly.

"We'd better get back to cleaning then."

He nodded.

"I, ah, need my hand back." She said, hoping he didn't notice her blush.

He dropped it quickly. "Right then, cleaning."

* * *

By eight o'clock the room was at least sanitary enough to stand in. The sheets and curtains (doxy-free) had been scourified several times through by Mrs. Weasley. They were red, which was almost enough to make him wish they were dirty again. According to Ginny the floor was clean enough to eat off of (which he hoped was not meant to be taken literally) and the boxes were neatly stacked out of the way. Ginny had left nearly twenty minutes before to get cleaned up for dinner. As he walked down the stairs, he paused at her door. He heard a knocking and thought for a moment it was Ginny, but then he realized the sound was much too distant. He heard a door open and Mrs. Weasley invite someone in. He heard the door creak again.

"Draco?"

He jumped. "Merlin. Don't do that."

Ginny laughed from behind him. "Come on, dinner time."

He followed her down the rest of the stairs. By the time they reached the kitchen it was filled with people. The table had been magically elongated to fit an apparently infinite number of people. Fred and George sat beside each other, each opposite to an identical, glaring, freckled face. Charlie, sitting backwards on his chair, was discussing something with Bill who was casually leaning against the wall. Percy sat stiffly between his mother and a skinny brunette Draco vaguely remembered from school. Mrs. Weasley was seated next to her husband, who was leaning across the table avidity gesturing with his fork about something to Lupin and a rather shaggy man with dark hair. Seated next to Mr. Weasley at the head of the table, looking strangely out of place and larger than life in the crowded room, was Dumbledore. He smiled when he saw Draco. Tonks was there too, holding Lupin's hand under the table. There was a slew of other redheaded children, including Ron who was whispering conspiratorially with Harry and Hermione. As Ginny approached the table, a chair appeared next to Harry, she sat and began to fill her plate. Hesitantly, Draco followed and just as it had for Ginny a chair sprang up from nowhere to accommodate him.

She was pleased at least that Dumbledore had acknowledged them. That meant someone had already told him about Draco. She sighed, that was one less time she'd have to tell someone she couldn't tell them anything.

"Who _are _all these people? I didn't know there could _be _this much red outside of the Gryffindor common room."

"That." She said pointing to the woman who had been talking to Molly when he first arrived. "Is my Aunt May, and the man next to her is my Uncle Dave. The one on the other side of Hermione is my cousin Ben and-"

"Do you really expect me to remember names, Weasley?"

"Of course not. I expect you to say 'Weasley' really loudly and hope the right one turns around."

He nodded. "Yeah, that was the general plan."

She grinned. "You're the one that asked."

"Temporary insanity."

"Temporary?"

"Ms. Weasley?" She looked up into the quiet blue eyes of the headmaster. He hadn't spoke loudly at all, and yet she could easily hear him from across the table above the clatter of everyone around them. "Could I perhaps bother you for a meeting after dinner?"

She nodded. "Yes, Professor."

"Perhaps Mr. Malfoy could be persuaded as well?" He said, looking at Draco who nodded in turn.

The headmaster smiled. "Wonderful, now if I could just trouble you to pass the yams. Wonderful food yams."

* * *

Headmaster Albus Dumbledore looked, if possible, even less stately to the backdrop of daisy pillows then Draco did. The color did make his eyes look absolutely lovely, but, fighting down a giggle, she decided that was probably a highly inappropriate thing to say.

"Your father has informed me of your- um, shall we say vague- reasoning. I don't suppose you could tell me…." He trailed off. Ginny was shaking her head vehemently. "No, I had supposed as much."

"I expect you understand the significance of what you're doing?" He asked, looking at her seriously over his half-moon glasses.

"Yes, headmaster."

He nodded. "I thought so."

He turned to address Draco. "Professor Snape says I should trust you." He stated simply, examining the blond for a long moment.

"I hope you understand that there will be things which you must keep secret."

Draco nodded. He couldn't for the life of him guess what could possibly be so important that Dumbledore himself felt the need to address it, but he got the felling that something very serious was being asked of him.

"Good. For now, you are free to go, but I fear I must inform you that several people are insistent upon you're immediate departure. I on the other hand, believe in the potential in each and every one of my students. If, however, you prove untrustworthy, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded.

"And you Ms. Weasley? You realize that he is now your responsibility? Should anything happen, you will be equally to blame."

"Yes, headmaster."

He smiled, standing up. "Good. Now if you'll excuse me I have a rather pressing engagement with some of Molly's peach cobbler."

"Someday, Weasley, you'll have to explain to me what exactly I just agreed to."

She sighed. "Don't worry. You'll see soon enough."

There was a long pause.

"He's absolutely insane, you know. Barking mad."

She smiled. "It's part of his charm."

* * *

Draco had been staring at the bed for twenty long minutes and was still nowhere closer to convincing himself to crawl in them. He had personally watched as Mrs. Weasley had washed them three times, but he still could get the image of the damp, brown, sticky sheets out of his head.

There was a knock at the door, and Draco almost sighed in relief that there was at least something to take his mind off the creatures that were undoubtedly lurking under the covers waiting for him.  
Ginny was standing at the door when he opened it, and without waiting for a response, she pushed past him and went directly to the bed.

"I always pictured you as the kind of girl who would need flowers and poetry, but the direct route works just as well." He said shrugging.

"Shove it." She said, but not unpleasantly, as she began to strip the sheets from the mattress.

"What are you doing Weasley?"

"Well, your not going to sleep in them are you?" She asked, eyeing him with amusement. Discarding the old ones, she tossed a ball of white cotton sheets at him. "It only took me about a minute to realize you were probably up here staring at them waiting for a swamp giant to jump out at you."

"I was not!"

She looked at him. "Just help me put those on."

He looked at the sheets in his hand doubtfully.

"Oh, come off it. Those are clean! I laundered them myself."

"Is that supposed to reassure me?"

She glared. "You're such a snob."

He grinned. "I prefer sophisticated, darling."

With only a little difficulty, she got the sheets onto the mattress, Draco of course, standing and watching the whole process without lifting a finger. When she finished she settled down on the bed.

"What are you doing?" He asked suspiciously.

"Hoping one of my brothers comes in, thinks you're seducing me, and attacks you. It would be extremely entertaining."

"You have a sick sense of humor, Weasley."

"So I've been told. Fold those." She said, looking around the room. Her eyes fell on the bed stand, where two pictures stood. They had not been there before. One was a picture of a tall, thin woman with blond hair. She was smiling and waving. With a start, Ginny recognized her as Draco's mother, the same woman they had seen at the World Cup. Then, with her upturned nose and dead eyes, Ginny had though her a very unattractive woman, now, however, she could see that was pretty; she would have been absolutely striking when she was younger. The image turned to smile at Draco, who was now- very carefully- attempting to fold the old sheets without actually having to touch them. Her eyes softened as the fell upon her son, and then she turned back to Ginny smiling conspiratorially.

The second frame held a picture of Blaise, who waved happily at her. His arm was around a very pretty girl with long black hair, who, even in the picture managed an air of absolute superiority. Blaise was trying valiantly to cure her of that, tugging on her hair and giving her bunny ears. The girl gave him a withering glare, and turned around. Blaise giggled behind his hand.

Ginny looked at the picture, trying to place where she knew the girl from. She didn't attend Hogwarts, Ginny was positive Blaise hadn't introduce them and she-

"Sylvia." She said suddenly.

"What?" Draco asked, looking up. He had just managed to fold the sheet in half using the tip of his loafer.

"This is Sylvia, the girl from the restaurant, isn't it?" She asked holding up the picture.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, she's Blaise's cousin."

Ginny looked at the picture again, now wondering how she couldn't have realized it before. The beautiful waitress from C'est La Vie was just as impassive in the picture as she was in real life, and Ginny couldn't figure out how she hadn't noticed the resemblance between Blaise and his cousin. They had the same black hair and identical noses. And her eyes- she remembered how striking her eyes had been; now she knew why. They were Blaise's eyes, not the exact same shade of blue, but close and the shape was indistinguishable. But no, she concluded, still staring at the two, that was only part of it. There was still something else that had bothered her about the girl.

"She didn't go to Hogwarts?"

"No." Draco answered. "Beauxbatons. She graduated two years ago. She owns that restaurant."

"She _owns_ it?"

"Yes." Draco answered, looking surprised. "The Zabinis are almost as rich as the Malfoys. I've known her since before I was born."

She placed the picture back on the stand. Draco looked up at her, annoyed.

"Fine." She said, sliding off the bed and going to help him with the sheet.

As she folded it over the last time she looked up to find him smirking at her.

"What?" She asked.

"I knew if I just stood there long enough you'd do it. Ineptitude- life's greatest excuse."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Good thing you really are completely incompetent. You're not that great of an actor."

"Oh, very clever, Weasley."

"Thank you. That is one of my greatest attributes." She said with a mock bow.

"You know, Malfoy, we're not too bad at this getting along thing. We've been in the same room for a quarter of an hour and no one's in traction."

"I'd say that's commendable.

"Quite."

He laughed. "Do me a favor and tell that to your brothers."

"Oh, I'll be sure to tell them we get on _just fine_. In fact, I think I'll tell them just how _close_ we're getting." She said, batting her eyelashes innocently.

"Well then," He said, moving closer and taking hold of her wrists. "You might as well have something to tell them."

Draco Malfoy never backed down from a challenge.

She faltered, and he held back a smirk as her breath caught.

"I-" A knock at the door stopped her and even before she knew what had happened, Draco had dropped her arms and stepped away, just before Ron's freckled face appeared at the door.

"Mum sent me up to see if the ferret had enough blankets. Is everything alright, Gin?" Ron asked, suspiciously, looking from Draco, to Ginny who was still fighting down a blush.

"Of course, Ron." She answered. "I was just brining Malfoy some clean sheets."

Ron glared.

"Isn't it a little past your bedtime, Weasel?" Draco asked, smirking.

"Come on, Ginny." Ron said, "Let's go."

Ginny hurried across the room to her brother, who put one arm protectively on her elbow, leading her to the door.

"Good night, _Ginny_," Draco called after her as the door closed.

"Ginny," Ron said when they were outside and safely out of earshot. "Listen, I know what you said earlier, but, are you sure you're okay? I mean he didn't _do _anything to you or something?"

Ginny smiled. She should have been mad, but she was, for the moment at least, too touched by her brother's concern.

"I promise, Ron. Everything's fine."

"You'll tell me though, right? Tell me if something happens?"

"Of course, Ron. Good night." She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

"Goodnight, Gin."

* * *

That took so long to write, you have no idea! Anyways, the first little hints of fluffiness will really start to pick up probably next chapter (collective groan) _finally,_I know. Anyway, for those of you who just can't wait that long, check out my other little500review thankyou ficlet, dedicated to all of you wonderful, wonderful people who reviewed this story and have been dieing since, like, chapter two for this story to _finally_ get some romance in it.

Anyway, thanks again for taking time to review. It makes me happy and it annoys Draco, you just can't get much better than that! So go click that pretty little blue button in the left corner- yeah, right there- and say lots of nice things so I know that people are actually reading this.

Love'ya'll.


	30. Chapter Thirty

Ahh...remember way back when I first started this story and actually updated on time? Good times. I don't suppose I should even appologize for taking FOREVER to update, since your probably sick of my excuses anyway...unless you hate this story and were pleasantly convinced that I had abandoned this story in which case...why are this again? Anyway, today is officially the first day of my spring break so expect an update soon. Really this time.

Disclaimer: Of course I don't own it. Must you force me to remember that painful topic every time?

* * *

Draco rolled over in bed, and not only just because it was lumpier than one of Neville Longbottom's potions. For the majority of his second year, Draco had had a nightmare in which he was flying alone and just as he was about to reach out and catch the snitch, he found he was incapable of moving his hand to grab it. It was always right about then Harry Potter (usually much more pimply and shorter than he was in reality) had swooped down and snatched it right from under his nose. As the scene in the bathroom replayed in his mind, he couldn't help but be reminded of that dream. He had been so close. There had been Ginny, completely flustered and perfectly innocent. If he had reached up and kissed her just then, he knew she wouldn't have pulled away. But still, he had found himself immobilized, completely unprepared. It was almost as if he had been nervous, but that was, of course, completely preposterous. He hadn't been nervous around a girl since he was twelve. Well and there was Pansy. He was always nervous around Pansy, but that was for a completely unrelated reason. He would just have to accept that whatever the dodgy fluttering feeling he'd gotten in his stomach just came from the food, which he had been astounded to discover, had been made by Mrs. Weasley herself.

He'd always know the Weasleys didn't have maids or house-elves (Merlin knew he'd tortured them for it), but he'd never really considered the applications. The cleaning he had been forced into doing hadn't been too shocking, but the fact that they actual had to _cook_ for themselves? He tried to picture his mother in an apron, cooking peach cobbler and nearly laughed aloud. The image was pushed aside when he once again saw Ginny, breathing heavily, green eyes shining. He cursed, banishing the picture and replacing it with another. This one, Ginny standing almost cornered against the wall, looking up at him in abashed uneasiness, her breath catching as he approached. If her idiot brother hadn't walked in just then…

Stupid twit. Draco rolled over and tried to go to sleep.

That night, he dreamt about chasing the snitch into his kitchen only to crash huge mountain of peach cobbler. When he poked his head out, his mother was standing there with Ginny, admonishing him for not using a spoon.

* * *

It was quarter to eleven when he woke up the next morning. Lazily, he wallowed in the comfort of the blankets for several minutes before slowly pushing one leg over the side of the bed. After another long moment, he slid his other leg over the edge and stood stretching for a moment. His stomach growled loudly. As he climbed loudly down the stairs he paused at Ginny's room. The door was open and no one was inside. From the light trickling down from the opposite staircase, he guessed Ron and Harry were already up and about too. Now, at the foot of a second flight of stairs, he could hear the obnoxious notes of Christmas carols ringing from below. For a second, he considered turning around and going back upstairs, but his stomach made an undignified protest. Grumbling when he finally reached the first floor, he followed the sound of voices.

He found them in the living room. Ron and Harry were signing a rather lurid Christmas song entitled, "Too Big for Your Chimney". Hermione was holding a garland while Ginny, balancing rather precariously on the top of an armchair, hung it along the top of the wall, creating a festive, if not garish, multicolored border. There were all still in there pajamas. Ginny, wearing what was undoubtedly on of her brother's shirts, a long-sleeved, brown flannel shirt that would probably have normally come somewhere around her mid-thigh, was standing on her tip-toes, and the material was riding up considerably. He paused, taking a moment to appreciate her long, thin legs.

"And Santa's grabbed the presents and took away the tree, 'cause for this you'll be on the naughty list until you're ninety-three!" She finished the last line of the song with the boys.

"Some day, Weasley," He drawled, "you'll have to show me exactly what '_this_' is."

He knew Ron would make him pay for that later, but the look on her face as she turned around was worth it. She spun so quickly on her heel that the whole chair toppled over and with surprising grace (for her at least) she was able to catch herself before falling completely to the ground. He smirked slightly as he noticed her try and smooth the nightshirt. He turned his head slightly so that Weasel and Pot-Head wouldn't see him and then let his eyes roam slowly and suggestively down her body. The gesture was more to discomfort her then for his benefit, but that didn't stop him from noticing how nicely the heavy material fell over her curves. The deep brown set off her hair, and made her ivory skin even paler then usual. The effect should have made her freckles stand out more; instead, they, matching the fabric almost exactly in shade, looked like a thousand tiny jewels added purposely to finish off the ensemble. He thought of Pansy in her lacy pink nightgown and decided it was almost unfair that anyone should look so good in brown flannel.

Hermione, unfortunately, caught his glaze and frowned. She opened her mouth and was about to say something when Mrs. Weasley came in. She too was in pajamas, a purple knit robe covering them.

"Oh, Ginny, that garland's lovely." She said smiling. Noticing Draco, her smile faltered a moment, but it was only gone a second before she plastered another one. "Good morning, Mr. Malfoy."

He smiled charmingly. "Oh, please, ma'am, just call me Draco. I never got the chance yesterday to thank you for your hospitality. Opening your house to me- and on such sort notice- and with so many other guests already! I just hope I'm not putting you out _too_ much."

Ron and Ginny both snorted loudly. He ignored them.

"Oh, well, aren't you just too sweet?" Mrs. Weasley said smiling sincerely now. "And don't you worry, you are no trouble at all. Is there anything I can get for you?"

"Well, I was about to find a shower-"

"No showers, Malfoy." Ginny interrupted, smiling. "Weasley family Christmas rule. No gets out of their pajamas for the whole first day of holiday."

"Oh, Ginny don't be silly. I'm sure Draco will want to shower after how far you all traveled yesterday. And," She added chidingly, "Draco is _your _guest, I expect you to call him by his proper name."

She smiled again. "Feel free to use the bathroom on the third floor."

* * *

"Come in," he said. The knock on the bathroom door had been almost inaudible.

Ginny opened the door, holding a light blue towel. "I- ah- realized you didn't know where the towels were." She said, averting her eyes and blushing furiously.

Draco, again in his attempt at honesty had to admit he was a narcissist. He had a running total of every girl that had ever said anything complimentary about him and which pants had elicited that response. He knew exactly which outfit to wear to make his eyes stand out. So he knew, that standing there in just his satin pajama pants, having casually discarded his shirt on the bathroom floor, he was Apollo reincarnate. He didn't need the mirror to tell him exactly how low the material was clinging on his hipbones.

He smiled at her, reaching out to accept the towel. "What's the matter, Weasley?"

"N-N-Nothing." She stuttered, despite her valiant attempts to look at the tile, her eyes had (inevitably, in his opinion) returned to his chest.

He couldn't exactly have been called skinny, but he certainly wasn't in any way, heavy. He had a long, wiry build. There were no bulging muscles; seekers didn't need them. Everything about his body advertised an economy of resources- nothing lacking, nothing in excess.

He smirked. "Just admit that you're freakishly attracted to me. It okay. I don't mind that kind of thing." He said, raising an eyebrow suggestively.

Ginny, breaking out of her trance, snorted. "I swear someone needs to get you medication. And lots of it."

"Don't need it." He said smugly. "Everything's in proper working condition. I have a list of girls able to testify to that, if you need recommendations."

She laughed. "Is that all you ever think about?"

He grinned. "Well, occasionally I think about quidditch. You know," He said, looking thoughtful, "I think that's the first time you've laughed at me."

She snorted again. "Certainly not. I laugh at you all the time. Mostly loudly and cruelly when you're not in the room."

He looked slightly hurt. "I meant when I was trying to be funny."

"You were trying to be funny? Hmm, I thought you were trying to be honest. I should have known _that_ was unlikely."

He paused. Had this been a month ago, he would have been insulted. Or, at the very least thought _she_ was upset. But the banter had fallen into an almost friendly tone, not unlike something he would have said to Blaise.

"Aak." He pretended to glare. "I'm sick of your abuse. Get out of here."

"And if I don't?" She asked innocently.

"These pants are coming off in five seconds, whether you're in here or not, Weasley."

"Fine, fine, Malfoy I'm leaving! No need to _threaten _me." She said throwing a hand over her eyes with a grin and closing the door behind her.

He was slightly disappointed. He'd almost expected her to stay.

* * *

Narcissa sighed. "I just feel like there's something more I should be doing."

"You've done enough." Snape said, reassurances sounding awkward on his lips.

She smiled sadly at him. "Draco's been distant lately. I guess I'm just worried. He used to write weekly, now I'm lucky if I hear from him more than twice a month. You're sure you can't-"

"We've been through this before, Narcissa. It's better –for both of you- if you don't know."

"You're right, of course, it just kills me not knowing where my son is. You promise me he's safe?"

Snape nodded solemnly.

"Severus, you're sure that you've got it under control. The woman? Molly?"

"I've told Dumbledore. He's got double guard on her. Everything will be fine."

"A double guard? Will that be enough?"

"I don't know." Snape said honestly. "Dumbledore seems to think so."

Narcissa reached across the table and took his hand in hers and squeezed. They sat for a moment in silence.

"You'd better go." She said finally.

He agreed, taking his coat and standing. He looked at her one last time. "It _will_ be okay, Narcissa."

* * *

"George, that doesn't match!"

"What are you talking about? It matches the one Fred's putting on." George answered innocently.

"What?" Mrs. Weasley asked, spinning to face Fred who was putting on an identical purple orb. "Fred!"

In the meantime, George slipped his own ornament onto the tree.

The initial plan had been for a gold and red themed Christmas tree (for Gryffindor, of course,) but it had quickly deteriorated into a competition of which Weasley child could sneak the most of their homemade decorations onto the tree. Construction paper and colored clay were quickly overpowering the branches. There were at least three little paper ornaments with Ginny's smiling school picture on them, and at least twice that many of the twins (who, had against their will been forced to take separate school portraits. To compensate, they would take turns disappearing from their own ornaments to crowd into the other's). There were two little lumps of red and green clay that Ginny explained were Charlie's and were supposed to be dragons. Ginny's cousins, who had no ornaments of their own to contribute, were busily haphazardly tossing garlands and tinsel, which only occasionally made it to the tree. There was one with a picture of the trio on it and Draco observed that Mrs. Weasley had just _happened_ not to notice Harry slipping it on.

The whole family had crowded into the living room for the spectacle, and, as Ginny had said, they were all still in their pajamas. Even Arthur, who'd had to go into work that day had come home and immediately traded his suit for a long nightshirt. The only ones who refused to participate were Percy, a set of twins, (who with their glasses and upturned noses were not only reflections of each other, but miniatures of their older cousin), and Draco himself. All of the Weasleys occasionally looked over at Percy sadly, as if expecting that they would magically find him wearing comfortably wearing footy pajamas instead of his work clothes and a scowl.

After a while Fred and George abandoned their decorating to teach Ron and Harry a second verse of "Too Big for Your Chimney," and Molly was livid.

"Think of the example you're setting!" She bellowed over the chorus. Ginny, with a grin, joined in. "Virginia Weasley! Stop that this instant."

She gave up when Arthur belted out the last few lines with his children. She was looking imploringly at her sister-in-law.

From the other room, a baby started crying.

"On no." The woman said.

"Don't worry, Aunt May," Ginny said standing up, a small mountain of tinsel falling to the floor as she did. "I'll get it."

Draco noticed with distinct disappointment a pair of one of her brothers' baggy shorts had appeared to go under he pajamas.

"Thank you, Ginny. Why did I ever agree to it, Molly? Seven children?"

Mrs. Weasley laughed. "Brotherly competition. Dave couldn't very well have less then Arthur. Arnold's wife Anne put her foot down at six and they never let him live it down."

The conversation continued on and the longer Ginny was gone, the more acutely uncomfortable Draco became.

His discomfort increased when he suddenly heard someone exclaim, "Blimey, Draco Malfoy! Do I have the wrong fireplace?"

He looked up into the fire. In the midst of the flames was the head of Seamus Finnigan, the annoying Gryffindor.

The boy caught sight of Ron and Harry and looked even more baffled. Harry was about to say something when Mrs. Weasley turned to face the boy and said with a smile, "Why, Seamus, wonderful to see you. Did you need something?"

"I- I was just looking for Ginny." He said, still staring at the blond in front of him in bemusement. Then, as an afterthought he added. "Sorry to interrupt like this, Mrs. Weasley. Hope I'm not bothering you too much."

"Not at all." She said beaming. "I'll call Ginny right now. There's another fireplace in the kitchen. It's two floos down if you want to talk there."

Seamus smiled hesitantly and muttered a quick thank you before disappearing.

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley called and after a second Ginny appeared at the doorway carrying a baby and a bottle. "Here, give him here. Seamus is waiting in the kitchen fireplace to talk to you."

Ginny handed the baby to her mother and hurried off to the kitchen. Seamus was indeed waiting for her when she arrived.

"Ginny, what on earth is going on down there? I just flooed into your living room and _Draco Malfoy _was in there! Did you know?"

"Yes."

"Why, Ginny? Why?"

"Look, it's a terribly long story, Seamus. I'd appreciate if you didn't say anything about it."

"Is he going to be there the whole holiday?"

She nodded.

"I'm sorry, Gin. He must be a nightmare."

She smiled. "It's not too horrible. Did you need something, Seamus?"

"I just wanted to know when we could get together to shop for Hannah. We're going to visit my aunt for the next three days, but anytime after the twelfth works."

"The thirteenth then? That's a Wednesday, isn't it? That should be fine."

"Great, Ginny. I really appreciate you doing this. Hannah'll be thrilled."

"Anytime, Seamus. Have a pleasant visit with your aunt." She said, giving him another smile before he vanished.

Ginny walked back into the living room. Her mother was grinning insanely at her.

"Can we go to Diagon Alley this Wednesday?" She asked.

"Of course. Lovely boy, Seamus, isn't he?"

* * *

I'm sure even my most loyal readers are wonder when SOMETHING will actually happen. I promise, not only is there some actual romance on the way there is - surprise, surprise- a PLOT. Anyway, for those of you who are still reading...help is on the way.

Just kidding. Sort of. Anyway, thank you all so much for being so supportive and being awesome reviewers. Remember helpful criticism is always appreciated. Love'ya lots.


	31. Chapter Thirty One

I have officially decided to never tell anyone that I'll update quickly again, because everytime I do, my computer goes all screwy and I can't. I swear, I've had this done for like a week, but my internet wasn't working. Don't know why. My dad fixed and I'm not sure how. I don't even think HE is sure how. So sorry!

Disclaimer; (grabs Draco by arm, takes outmagic marker and writes "PROPERTY OF SOLANA13" in big, bold letters across his arm) Happy now?

* * *

Ginny knocked quietly on his door. He knew it was Ginny because no one else would be coming to see him. He called for her to come in and she casually took a seat on the chair next to his bed where he was reclining.

"I suppose I was wrong about that. You really are quite the actor, aren't you?"

He grinned. "I can't believe it took you this long to realize it."

"_Oh, Mrs. Weasley, I hope I'm not putting you out. You are just _sooo _kind. _Blah, blah, blah."

"Yes, she did seem quite taken with me, didn't she?" He looked immensely smug.  
"Oh, don't look so pleased, Mum would adopt Fudge if he complimented her cobbler. And she hates _him_." Ginny added as an afterthought, realizing there was no way Draco would have known that.

"How very modern of her. I never took the Weasleys as a very anti-establishment kind of family."

"It not her fault! The man is a bloody prick. Took Percy's already fat head and went and inflated it more. Dad was so mad."

"Has this anything to do with the lack of pajamas?"

"Of course he couldn't be bothered to participate. He's only here because Charlie and Bill told him if he didn't come they'd string him up by his ankles. Mum was so please when she heard- thought it meant Percy was back to normal again. Normal for Percy at least. I'm actually glad you're here." She said and he looked up a bit, startled.

"It gives them a chance to agree on _something_." She paused, struck by how odd it was to be having a normal conversation with him.

He too seemed to notice it too and the silence became somewhat awkward. "So…. did Finnigan have anything useful to say?"

"You knew he called?"

"Of course. Nosy prick saw me when he flooed." Draco said. "He better not say anything or I'll beat him to a bloody pulp." He added without thinking. As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted it, but when he looked up at Ginny, he could see she was vaguely amused.

"I wouldn't mind entirely if you did, for all the trouble he's caused me." The as an afterthought she added, "That's not permission, mind you."

He grinned. "Of course not, that would be ever so wrong. So what's the blond wonder done to get your knickers in a bundle? I thought it was, like, illegal for Gryffindors to fight. Isn't that one of the rules of pink fluffy bunny land?"

She snorted. "Hardly. You should see Ron and Hermione when they've had a row. It's terrifying."

There were many responses he could have said to that, but seeing as not one of them seemed likely to endear himself further to her, he turned the subject back to safer ground.

"Your mum seemed pleased to have him call, Seamus I mean."

Ginny paused, looking near to exasperated. "She thinks he'll want to date me again. She's convinced she ruined me as a lady, by letting me hang around with the boys so much. Says I ought to have worn more dresses, gone to formal teas and such. By the time I was thirteen she'd all but decided I was never going to marry. Should've seen her when I first met Harry. I think she was more set on making him her son-in-law than I was."

"And _that's_ saying something." He said unpleasantly. "I never understood what you saw in 'ole Potty."

"He was kind." She told him sourly. "You should try it sometime."

"Malfoys aren't kind. We're charming, debonair and handsome. Not kind."  
"Could use a bit of work in the modesty department too." She snapped, but she was smiling again.

He shrugged. "No one's perfect. I just happen to be _really_ close."

"Well, if you're done gently probing me for information I think I'll head up to bed."

He opened his mouth to protest.

"Oh don't bother." She said. "I have enough brothers that I recognize the signs. I must admit, you have a gift. I was nearly through my rant about Percy before I realized what you were doing."

He looked at her. "What are you doing here, Weasley?"

It wasn't the same, light tone he'd been using. It was serious, almost cold, and oddly reminiscent of how he would have spoken to her weeks ago. She looked at him, and found she didn't know exactly what to say.

"I don't know, exactly. It just seems like you could…use a friend right now."

"And what makes you think I'd choose you?" Draco sneered. Then he cursed himself for saying it.

She laughed. "You're utterly predictably. Did you know?"

He couldn't tell at all whether she was upset or not. She didn't seem particularly distressed. Instead she just regarded him with a curious expression, as if she were trying to figure out an especially hard Arithmancy problem. While he pondered how he was supposed to be responding, she stood up and went to the door.

"Goodnight, Malfoy."

Still at a loss for words, he sat in silence for a moment, and by the time he figured he should at least say goodnight back, she was gone.

Draco couldn't help but smile a bit. Perhaps she wasn't quite as helpless as he thought. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a moment before sighing and sitting up. He went to his trunk and found a bit of parchment and a quill and began a letter to his mother. He hadn't sent her his weekly update, and he wanted to make sure she was alright. When he finished scribbling out a quick note, he stood to send it, before realizing that he hadn't brought his owl with him, and he had no idea whether or not the Weasley's had one. Potter had one, a great bloody, white beast, but he would drop dead before he had to ask Potter for a favor. He sat back down on his bed and put the parchment on his bed stand. He'd have to wait to send it tomorrow.

Turning off the lights, he laid down and looked at the ceiling, replaying his conversation with Ginny. She had been right when she had said he was probing her. He needed to find out as much as he could about Ginny Weasley, and in the past day all he'd found out was that he knew absolutely nothing. Well, not nothing. He knew her family was important to her. Not in the same way that the Malfoy family was important to him, that was pride of a _name_ not necessarily the people who bore it. No, instead they were important to her in the way that his mother was important to him.

And he knew that she was trying as hard to figure him out as he was her. For entirely different reasons, of course. The real question was why? She was probably convinced she could befriend him and turn him away from his life of _evil_. He almost laughed at the thought of himself going around just like Potty, trying to rescue the damsel in distress. No, if that was what she wanted then she was going to be sorely disappointed.

The other possibility, which in his opinion was much worse, was that she was beginning to like him. In any other girl this would have been expected and deemed a good thing, but not with Weasley. If she started to actually like him, he knew she would be looking for a commitment, not just the holiday amusement he had in mind. That, of course, didn't mean he would use her, it just wasn't as much fun. Girls who wanted commitment always wanted to stop making out to talk about their future. That was most unfortunate, because he was an aesthetic, and the degree of beauty he required in any women who dated him usually came without the thought capacity needed to carry on a conversation.

Although, maybe the idea of Ginny actually liking him wasn't so terrible, because the more he thought about it the more unsure he became that he could win her over any other way then if she had feelings for him and thought those feelings were reciprocated. He didn't take her for the kind of girl who would be at all please to find out that she was simply being used as a good snog and a distraction from his boredom. Again he had to choke down his laughter as he pictured how _that_ conversation would go.

* * *

The next morning, he woke up at nine o'clock. He rolled over trying to go back to sleep, but, of course, he couldn't. The window was open and the sun was shining straight at him in some cruel mockery of cheerfulness. And he _really_ had to find a bathroom.

"Stupid sun." He mumbled as he crawled out of bed and stumble down the stairs. He turned the handle of the bathroom door only to find that the door was locked. He knocked.

"Oh, shove off, Ron! I said I'd be out in a minute!" Ginny's voice answered.

This time he pounded on the door. "Hurry up, Weasley!"

"Hold on!" She called.

He continued to pound on the door until it opened beneath his blows.

"Would you stop that?" Ginny asked, wrapped in a light blue bathrobe and a pair of long, pajama pants. Her hair was dripping wet and he could only assume she'd just stepped out of the shower.

"Move." He snapped. "I. Need. To. Use. The. Bathroom."

She grinned, leaning against the doorframe. He noticed that she had a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt shoved under her arm. "Now, that's not very polite. Is wittle Draco not a morning person?"

"No."

"Well, we'll just have to change that, won't we?" She said, drawing out the torture on his bladder.

"Weasley, if you haven't moved in three seconds, I'll make you move."

Ginny looked amused. "Really, and how to you plan to do that."

"Three." He said, and then snatched he clothes from out from under her arm.

"Hey! Give those back, Malfoy!" She said, straightening up, but not moving from in front of the door.

"Come and get them." He said, holding the small bundle out of her reach.

"If you think I'll going to jump for those you're mad." She said.

He shrugged.

"Fine, Malfoy, have it your way." She said, then, securing the tie on her robe, she rushed forward and tackled him. He groaned as he hit the ground and she, sitting on his chest, triumphantly snatched the clothes back from him.

"Ugg…Weasley, you're heavy…. my bladder…"

She laughed. "That's what you get." She said, chidingly.

"Get off. I can't feel my legs."

"But, you're much more awake now, aren't you?"

"Am I interrupting something?"

Ginny and Draco looked up into the cold face of Professor Snape. If Draco hadn't known how angry Snape must have been at the moment, he would have said the professor looked almost amused.

Ginny was on her feet in an instant, blushing bright red and trying to smooth her robe. "No Professor."

"Good." He said, turning his gaze on Draco, who was still lying on the floor. "Molly said I'd find you up here."

Draco smiled, even if he did know he was about to die. "How you been, Professor?" He asked. Snape was about to kill him, he knew that much. But how had he been found? And why wasn't Ginny looking more surprised as to the fact that the potions master was in her house?

"Ms. Weasley, would you excuse us for a moment while Mr. Malfoy and I have a chat?"

"Of course, Professor." She said, still blushing, and rushed into her room.

"Actually, Professor," Draco said. "I was just headed to the-" Just then Harry walked by, on his way down from Ron's room and gave them an interested look. After a second, he seemed to either determine that they weren't up to anything menacing, or if they were it involved Malfoy getting injured, which also wasn't a bad thing, and turned away.

"Ron!" He called, started down the second flight of stair. "Bathroom's empty."

"Finally!" Ron, a red blur was throwing the bathroom door closed before Draco could utter a word.

Snape looked down at him wryly. "You were saying?"

Draco sighed. "Let's just go have a chat then, Professor."

* * *

"So, how'd you find me?"

"In a rather compromising position, I'm afraid." Snape said, dryly.

Draco looked at him incredulously. Not only was the professor joking, he was joking at a time he should have been furious.

The tips of Snape's mouth turned up in what was almost a smile. "I know it may be hard to comprehend, Mr. Malfoy, but my life doesn't revolve around you. You should have known I'd be here."

Questioningly, Draco stared up at the professor from his seat on the bed, waiting for the man to explain. When he did, the almost-smile feel from his lips.

"You don't understand where you are do you? You little fool, you've stepped right into the middle of the Order of the Phoenix."

"This- Ginny Weasley's house- is the Order headquarters?" Draco asked. That, at least, explained Ginny's lack of surprise.

"Of course not." He snapped. "This is just where everyone's spending their Christmas holiday. I warned them it was a stupid idea, to leave headquarters. Deatheaters will have this house under constant surveillance, and then, so must we. No one listened, though, even Dumbledore sanctioned it."

The boy scoffed. "Crazy old bugger."

Again Snape's mouth twitched. "You have too little faith in your headmaster, Mr. Malfoy."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"This is the last place your father will look. At least you'll be safe and out of trouble here. That is if you survive Ms. Wealsey's brothers." Snape said after a long pause, standing up.

"You're leaving?"

"My turn on guard." He said shortly, already at the door. "Be careful Draco."

"You too, Professor." Then, just as the man was about to leave, Draco called, "Oh, Professor. How should I reach you? I can't use my owl, obviously…"

The older man examined him for a moment. "I have one you can use, I'll send him over." He said finally and was out the door, leaving Draco staring in wonder.

Snape hadn't killed him. Draco hadn't told him a thing about where he was going, and then run off with the Weasleys of all people and Snape hadn't killed him. He hadn't even seemed angry. Draco would have thought that after the shock of finding him at any place called _the Burrow_, had worn off, that Snape would have been livid with Draco for running off without a word of his whereabouts to anyone. Instead, the professor hadn't yelled at all. And, Draco realized with a start, he hadn't acted very surprised either.

Was it possible his mother had told the potion master her son's location? Draco didn't think so. He had debated for a long time about telling his mother. In the end, he had simply because he knew that _someone _had to know where he was in case something happened, but he had never even considered telling Snape. His mother was one thing. As far as Lucius was concerned, she was a loyal wife. Snape on the other hand was under quite a bit of suspicion and scrutiny. If his father found out that Snape not only knew where Draco was, but had also helped him….

Draco didn't even want to think about his father. He couldn't even picture how enraged he must have been when Draco simply didn't come home from King's Cross.

But then, if his mother hadn't told Snape- which he knew she hadn't for the same reason he hadn't-how had he known? Was it possible that Ginny….? No. He clearly remembered that night in the dungeon when he'd been so convinced she'd been listening to Snape and himself discussing his father's plan for the holiday, but now he wasn't so sure that she had. If she did, she was a much better liar then he gave he credit for. Besides, he could hardly see the girl just marching down to Snape's office to _tell _the man that she had been eavesdropping, which would have of course had to of been what she had done if she had told him Draco was staying with her. And even then, the necklace wouldn't have allowed her to do anything of the sort.

He winced thinking about the necklace. He hadn't allowed his mind to wander there for several weeks now. He hadn't used it since that night…Draco forced an image of Ginny unwrapping her scarf to reveal a hand-shaped bruise around her neck where no bruise could possibly be out of his head.

Honestly, Draco didn't want to use it again. He was afraid of what he might find. He fingered the golden ring- the necklace's counterpart- that he'd taken to keeping in his pocket at all times, picturing her again.

There was a small knock on the door.

"Yeah?" He called.

The door opened very slightly and Ginny poked her head in, looking almost like a groundhog afraid of its shadow. When she saw that Snape had left, she pushed the door the rest of the way open.

"I thought I saw him leaving. Coming downstairs?"

She'd exchanged her bathrobe for the clothes he'd taken from her earlier.

"Depends. What'd you have planned, Weasley?" He asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe just a friendly game of Quidditch." She said smiling.

"Are you mad! It's, like, ten degrees out there!"

"Exactly, Malfoy. That's half the fun."

* * *

Thanks so much to my reviewers! I love you all so much. You rock. Like seriously. Anyway, swim team started up again so don't expect an update TOO soon (see, I didn't break my promise), but I'm really excited because the climax (oh my gosh! A climax! As in what concludes a plot? There's a plot? I missed it!) is coming up soon, so I really want to get the next few chappies out. Anyway, go and hit the pretty little review button and make me happy. Mad love. 


	32. Chapter Thirty Two

Ugg...I actually wanted to get all the way to the trips to Diagon Alley in this chapter, but I've had no time at all. So you'll have to wait until next chapter. Sorry! Oh, and just a quick note, in the last chapter, I said 10 degrees. That was in Fahrenheit, not Celcius. Yup, I live in the States. Not metric standard for us. Anyway, 10 degrees F figures out to about negitive 12 degrees C. Just thought I'd clarify that.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J.K. Rowling. No money is being made from this fanfiction.

* * *

"Weasley, I don't know how you talked me into this, but if it didn't involve a lot of chocolate sauce and some sort of exotic dance I must have been out of my mind." He said, as he pulled up into position opposite her. They were well above the other players so he didn't have to worry about one of her brothers hearing.

She smiled sweetly. "Of course it did. It took Crabbe a lot of convincing- he said you weren't his type- but he'll be here in an hour with the chocolate and strawberries."

He gagged. "Oh that's just not fair. I'll never be able to watch the snitch for all my throwing up."

She shrugged. "Just thought I'd spare you the embarrassment of being beaten by a Weasley."

"Awfully confident, aren't we?"

"Well," She said with a grin, "when you're perfect, it _is _awfully hard to stay modest about it."

"Finally, someone understands." He answered smiling back. Was it just the cold making her cheeks so pink or was she blushing? He decided for his ego's sake he decided she was blushing.

"Are you two ready up there?" Someone redheaded called.

Ginny looked down at whichever of her brothers had spoken and gave him a thumbs up sign, her indication that they were indeed ready. With a shrill whistle the boy (Charlie he was pretty sure) released the snitch and the bludger and the game began.

Ginny took off immediately, circling what passed for the pitch lazily, searching for a golden glint. Draco, taking a more leisurely approach, surveyed from his spot well above the rest of the action.

They'd made him a seeker simply because he refused to play any other position. The twins idea to warp the game by switching around positions had lead to a rather laughable discussion of who should play on what team and what part they would play. Harry, it was immediately decided, could not be allowed to be a seeker. Instead, they stuck him in front of one of the goals (three old tires hanging from a tree on either end of the field). Fred and George also, quite reluctantly gave away their bats and were forced to separate to make the teams more even. Their only consolation being that as chasers, they would be able to try and beam each other with the quaffle. Ron and Charlie were made beaters (Charlie, quite purposefully in Draco's opinion, made sure not only that Ron stayed a safe distance away from Draco before the game, but also that they were on the same team so that Ron would have no excuse to 'accidentally' knock him off his broom). Bill (that _was _the name of the one with the earring, right?) was the other keeper, the position they had tried to talk Draco into playing. He had refused outright because while he was a superb seeker, he was somewhat lacking when it came to catching and throwing. A fact that he felt no need to advertise. Ginny was the only one who got put in a familiar position, a fact that she was only mildly put out by.

He could tell as he watched her now that she was at least a fair seeker. Though she continued almost sluggishly drifting above the pitch, he could see that she was actually keeping a sharp eye on everything around her. She was a good flier too. The way she sat surely on the broom and rose and fell casually with the air currents demonstrated a level of familiarity that came only with practice and skill. She was, however, nowhere near as good as him and he intended to prove it.

The only problem with was that it was snowing, making it impossible to see the snitch. Ginny seemed to be having the same problem. She would dive down several feet in search of the ball only to pull quickly out of her descent with a baffled look on her face. She was still having better luck than him however; he hadn't caught sight of the snitch at all. Finally, he resigned himself to following after her, flying lazy circles around her hoping that she would be able to pick it out. Ginny made absolutely no response to him, except to occasionally look up from her search and smile. Several times, on purpose he suspected, she would plunge down in pursuit of something, only to pull up. When he followed, he inevitably found himself in Ron's path.

"Heads up, Malfoy." Fred jeered on one such occasion. "Wouldn't want any accidents, would we?"

Draco had responded with a rude hand gesture, which only made the twins taunt more. Ginny flew right in front of him, a mocking grin on her face.

He returned her smile. Before breaking into a dive of his own, which she, startled, imitated. He pulled up and she followed just in time to impact with the quaffle that George had thrown.

The boys all paused to watch as she shook herself. When they were assured she was unharmed, Harry retrieved the fallen quaffle and they resumed play. Once she was level with him, she smiled, this one a smile of true amusement.

"Now that wasn't very nice." She admonished playfully. "I could have been seriously injured. Then where would you have been?"

"An unmarked grave somewhere, I'm guessing." He called.

"I just hope you realize what you've done." She said somewhat more seriously. "I'm a horror when I want to win."

"Which differs from you normally, how?"

She smiled again, and pushed off to circle the pitch again. True to her word, Ginny made things very difficult for him after that. There were no more feigned dives, or smiles, and he took that as a sign to mean that the real game had begun. Her movements were no longer languid, but instead sharp and meaningful. Taking her example, he followed, circling the pitch watching for any hint of the snitch. The events below had little meaning. It was something completely detached from where he was. It was no longer simply a competition between his team and hers. Instead he it had become a contest exclusively between the two of them, the ultimate outcome irrelevant.

"Hey!" Someone from below called, startling Ginny. She paused and looked down, then automatically checked to make sure that Draco too had stopped his search. One she was assured he had also paused, she looked back down at the redhead addressing her. "Are you two ready to head in? We're freezing our bums off!"

Draco and Ginny locked eyes for a moment. She quirked an eyebrow and smirked, daring him to give up.

"Give up?" He asked, not breaking eye contact with her. "Never."

"Have it your way." Charlie called up laughingly. "Just don't expect us to save any hot chocolate for you."

"Keep you're knickers on, we'll be finished soon!" Ginny called, before taking off again in search of her golden adversary.

* * *

"Hey 'Mione." Ron said, successfully shoving a whole pastry in his mouth as he plopped down on the couch. Once he had swallowed he leaned over to kiss the girl.

"Don't you dare, Ron Weasley." She said batting him away with her book. "You're all gross and sweaty."

"How can I be sweaty? I was outside in the _snow_."

"Snow or no snow you smell like a boys locker room."

Ron frowned at her before looking at her book. "Isn't that the book I got you for your birthday?"

She nodded. It was a massive volume entitled, _Advanced_ _Arithmancy as it Relates to the Basic Functions_ _of Time Travel_.

"Fine then," He said, and snatched it out of her hands. "No kiss, no book."

"Ron, honestly…don't be ridiculous…give me…" She made another attempt to snatch the book back from him and he planted a lopsided kiss on her lips.

"Oh, that's enough, Ron! Your nose is freezing."

Harry smiled as his best friends' antics. "Get a room, you two."

Hermione blushed.

"You know, I had that exact idea myself."

"Ronald!" Hermione snapped, still bright red. "Honestly… boys."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Hermione said, "You were out there for ages. I'd thought you'd all frozen to death."

"Nope." Harry answered. "Though Malfoy seems dead set on it." Hermione gave him a questioning look and he nodded towards the window, from which the field they had been using as a pitch only moments before was barely visible.

"The little twit's still out there with Ginny." Ron said.

Hermione looked alarmed. "Why?"

"Dunno. The two of them were battling it out like crazy. Had me half convince it was a reenactment of the Goblin Wars. Would've said it was some type of struggle for male dominance or something, except that doesn't really apply to Ginny." Harry answered.

"Oh Harry, you know that we didn't use brooms in the Goblin wars. Charms…" She trailed off at the expressions on the two boys faces.

"Malfoy refused to come in until he'd caught the little bugger." Ron said. "Guess he really wanted to beat her."

"Or impress her." Hermione said frowning.

"WHAT?" Both boys asked.

"It's just…I saw him looking at her earlier. And it didn't seem like he had any sort of painful revenge plan in mind."

"Are you saying that Gin and Malfoy are….involved?" Ron asked, sounding shocked and disgusted.

"Well…not necessarily. Just that maybe he wishes they were."

Harry and Ron burst out laughing. "Really, Hermione, the day a Malfoy pines over a Weasley I'll eat my broom. He was probably just picturing something really nasty. Like beating her over the head with a candle stick." Ron said.

"I don't think so."  
Ron looked just a little less sure of himself. "Well, if he _does _try anything, I'll kill him."

"Now, I didn't mean to get you to go and bash his head open. I was probably just imagining things." She said, biting her lip.

"Yeah, Ron, I'm sure that's it." Harry said. But still, all three were quite for a moment as they watched the two figures in the air through the window. Just then, there was a streak of green diving straight toward the ground. Their eyes followed it downward until it was just meters off the ground and dropped out of view.

* * *

Ginny heard the dive rather than saw it. She felt the rush of moving air behind her and the sound of wind and responded long before she even thought about what it was. Draco, in his quidditch robes and wrapped in a huge, warm cloak, dropped through the air in front of her with reckless speed. His lunge resembled a freefall; he spiraled with the currents, looking for all the world like a leaf being carried down to the ground with the wind. She paused just long enough to assure herself that he really _wasn't _falling. But then, after only a second, she saw it, the golden snitch, glistening just inches away from his outstretched hand. She leaned down and urged her broom straight down, allowing gravity to assist her. But even as she approached him, she knew that he would catch it before she even came close. Just as she finished that thought, his hand closed around the small ball and he pulled up just in time to keep himself from colliding with the ground.

She slowed her descent and waited until she was even with him before pulling out. He was smirking as he held the snitch up for her to see.

"I told you I always win."

"Get stuffed." She said, glaring.

"Really, Weasley, I don't blame you." He said. "Not many people even last that long against me."

"Harry seems to do a bang up job of it

Draco's expression soured. "Yeah, well, we can't all be like Potty, now can we?"

Suddenly she grinned. "You're jealous."

"Of Pot-head? Why would I possibly be jealous of him? I've got money, brains, women and…and…I'm…blond!"

"But you've never beaten him have you?"

He was fuming silently.

"And you've never had a pillow fight or a homemade Christmas gift?" She said, looking at him with keen interest.

"I never understood what was so great about those things. Who wants to get hit in the face with a pillow?"

Ginny examined him for a moment. "Snowball fights?"

"No. And personally-"

Just then, in one stupendous bound, Ginny leapt from her broom on to his, knocking them both to the snow covered ground.

"Ahh…" He groaned pathetically, "Weasley. What was that for?"

She didn't respond. Instead, she stood up and gathered as much snow in her arms as she could and dumped it on him.

He sat up, glaring. "What the bloody-"

"It called a snowball fight and I hate to tell you, but you're losing." She dashed out of his reach, gathered up another pile of snow and began packing it into a tight ball.

"Are you crazy, Weasley. I'm not having a sno-"

He broke off to wipe the snow from his face. Ginny was grinning, brandishing another snowball menacingly.

"Okay, that's it. This is ridiculous. I'm not going inside. You can stay out here acting like a two year old, but I've had enough, thanks." He stood, brushed himself off, and stomped past her.

Ginny sighed. For a moment she forgot she who she had been talking to. She'd been hanging out with a normal guy and then _bang _he was back to being Draco I'm-way-too-good-to-even-look-in-your-general-direction Malfoy. She growled and went over to the two abandoned brooms. She bent down, hand closing on the handle of her Comet 166 and-

_Thawmp._

"Oaah!" She shrieked, turning to face her assailant. Draco was standing behind her grinning like a madman.

"Hey!" She cried, outraged, wiping snow from her cold and now rather wet backside.

"When are you ever going to learn Weasley? _Malfoys don't lose._"

"My bum's cold." She said reproachfully.

"I just aimed for the biggest target," He said innocently. "If you'd been _facing_ me it would have been your-"

She glared.

"-mouth. I just had to settle for second best."

"That's it, you're dead."

* * *

Something strange was going on. Molly Weasley couldn't quite figure out what, but she hadn't raised six sons without being able to perceive when something was wrong. She'd gone to visit Arthur at the office that morning with some cake (he deserved at least something a little special what with the bloody ministry making him work through most of the holidays) and she was quite sure she'd heard someone following her. She had gone straight to Kingsley Shaklebolt's desk and chatted politely for a few minutes and offered him a bit of cake. Seeming to realize something was wrong (which he almost always did, clever man Kingsley) he offered to show her up to Arthur's office. But by the time she'd been safely escorted to her husband without she or Kingsley hearing anything at all suspicious, she was feeling rather foolish.

"Molly? Everything alright, love?" He had asked when she arrived.

"I thought I heard someone following me. Nerves, I'm sure. Everything's been so stressful lately."

He had become very wary, as he always did when she was worried, and made her promise to apparate straight home. That was why she loved him so much, even if he did collect plugs and had a tendency to charm things (particularly muggle things) that weren't meant to be charmed; he was the single kindest and most caring person she had ever known.

She had kept her promise, apparating home right in front of him not only to appease him, but also because she was having a horrid time not being there to watch over the children. True, Tonks and Sirius and Lupin were there, but the former two were just as likely to get in trouble as any of her children and she wasn't sure if Lupin could handle _all_ of them. There were probably at least a half dozen other Order members there at any given moment, but still. There was no such thing as too careful.

She felt even more foolish when she arrived home and everyone was safe and sound. The kids were out playing a game of Quidditch. Hermione was reading in the living room. The two remaining marauders were with Tonks and Moody, discussing safety precautions.

Reassured, she had settled down with a good book (she hardly ever got to read when the kids were around) but soon found that with everyone outside the house was far too quite for her liking. Besides, the cupboard was looking rather bare, so she gather up her cloak and shopping list and went out for supplies.

The second indication that something was wrong was the fact that Moody insisted upon coming with her.

"Aww, right then, Molly." He'd said gruffly, grabbing his own cloak. "I'll just be coming along with you then."

She had tried to explain that she really didn't need a guard, which of course, seeing as it was Moody, got her nowhere. She then explicated that she would feel much better if he stayed at home protecting the children, but he remained adamant.

"Near the whole bloody Order's here. If Voldemort tries anything, the kids'll be fine."

So finally she'd resigned and let him come along. But the whole time he had periodically rolled his magical eye back in his head and swiveled it around behind them as if he was keeping watch for something. It was quite unnerving.

As soon as they'd arrived home, Moody had shuffled back to his meeting with Lupin. She put away the groceries and went to lie down. She had learned long ago from the twins that when something was up, the best way to find out what, was to simply wait it out. She could do that. She had always been an extremely patient person. With seven kids, she had to be.

* * *

This was always exactly how he'd pictured Gryffindors spending all their free time; frolicking in the snow. Except he couldn't remember at that vary moment what about it had seemed so unappealing. Ginny and he had been tossing snowballs at each other for nearly twenty minutes. She had built up a tiny wall, behind which she could safely hide while she bombarded him. He, likewise, had found a place behind a tree where even her best-aimed attacks couldn't reach him. He knew, however, that his shelter was only temporary; large spots of brown grass surrounded him where he'd used up all the snow on the ground around him. Ginny seemed to be having the exact same difficulty, because at that exact moment, he saw her roll out from behind her shelter. Like any good soldier at war she was down on her knees, pulling herself with her elbows. She was headed towards a hedge, behind which not only would she be safe, but there would be a fresh supply of ammunition.

Feeling greatly annoyed at the prospect of being pelted by any more of her rather vindictive attacks, he jumped from behind his tree and charged. Seeing him, she jumped to her feet, running for the shelter of the bushes, but he was too quick for her. He tackled her, knocking her clear into the snow. She squealed, and he smirked down at her.

"Ha! I win!" He said triumphantly. He found he was panting and out of breath. He couldn't remember why exactly he should be. She looked up at him, and he smiled, noticing delicate snowflakes lacing her eyelashes. Her hair spilled around her like a red bloom fallen on the snow.

"That's what you think!" She was smiling, grinning raucously. She then rolled over so she was pinning him onto the snowy ground.

It was the second time in as many days that he had found Ginny Weasley sitting on his chest. The only problem with that it was getting him _nothing._ Well, he could fix that easily enough.

"So, looks like Malfoys don't always win, no doesn't it?" She asked.

"Who says I didn't?" He said, moving his face just a little closer to hers.

She blushed suddenly, looking for the first time as though she realized what she was doing. She was _sitting _on Draco Malfoy. She was sitting on _Draco Malfoy._

Ginny jumped to her feet.

"Right then, I'd better go see if the boys left us any hot chocolate." She said, and then hurried off at a near run.

Draco sighed. Every time he got close something got in the way. He sighed, standing up. If he were anyone else, he would have just resigned himself to the fact that he was just going to have to be bored this holiday. But he was a Malfoy, and as he'd reminded her enough times, Malfoys didn't lose. Or give up. At least not when it was something they _really _wanted…or couldn't get someone else to do for them.

He made the quick walk back to the house (house being a word used quite generously in his opinion) he stomped his snow-covered shoes before entering.

"What do you mean?" Ron's voice greeted him from the next room over. He could always tell when it was Ron talking. He was just so bloody _whiney _all the time.

Draco froze immediately and listened. He didn't know what the trio was discussing, but he had learned it was never wise to pass up a good opportunity to eavesdrop. Especially with those three; they were just so careless about what they said.

"Now don't go biting _my_ head off, Ronald."

"You knew. I can't believe Seamus was dating my baby sister. Bloody wanker. Never even had the balls to tell a bloke about it."

"Ron!" Hermione admonished shrilly. Draco smirked; he couldn't see her but he was fairly sure she was blushing. "Stop being crude. Besides, they never _officially _went out."

"Still, he sholda at least told me about it."

"Because he knew you'd take it so well." Harry deadpanned.

"Aww shut up, Harry. This is serious. I just find out that not only did Seamus date my sister, he broke her heart. I'll kill him when I see him!"

"Oh, quit being so dramatic. I didn't say he broke her heart. I just said she was a little upset about it. Besides, I could be completely wrong. Maybe she was just tired…"

"Merlin, hold on a minute. Why's she still going to Diagon Alley with him? He doesn't think he'll get her back does he?"

"Well I rather hope not considering she's just going to help him pick out a Christmas present for Hannah-"

"Hannah?" Ron cried. "Hannah Abbot? He wants her to pick out a present for his _girlfriend?_"

Draco could understand Ron's outrage. Every guy in the world, except apparently Seamus, knew that you didn't ask your ex to help you shop for your current fling if you wanted to keep all of your body parts. He heard even Harry wince. _Harry. _Who, at least according to Draco, knew less about wooing women then a big, furry, spider. Draco felt himself go cold for a reason he couldn't quite place. It probably had to do with all the snow that had somehow made it down his shirt outside.

"Yes, I admit, it does seem a bit inconsiderate of him, but Ginny could have said no."

"Ginny doesn't say no to anyone, Hermione, you know that." Harry said.

Except of course me, Draco couldn't help but think somewhat bitterly.

"Just don't go and make Ginny out to be the damsel in distress. She wouldn't take very well with that."

Ron snorted.

"I'm serious, Ron. Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"You know me, 'Mione."

"That is exactly why I'm worried."

* * *

Okay, hope I didn't confuse you all too much with the back-and-forthness, which I just made a word, so THERE! Anyway, thanks all for reading. I'll try and have another chapter out soon, but swim season makes things crazy. School gets out in exactly a month for us, and I PROMISE I'll update again beofre then, but assoon as class ends, I'll be able to update more often.

Review! Please? Pretty please? With sugar on top? Please?I luuuuurrrrrrrrvvvvvvvvveeeeee you!


	33. Chapter Thirty Three

Oh my gosh. I'm a horrible liar! It's been a month since I updated! I'm so sorry, but I had a million projects, plus finals to worry about. But now schools out, so I'll have a lot more free time. Err...this chappie is extremely long, and it's really late, so I expect there are probably even more grammatical/spelling errors than normal. I reread it like, 16 times, but I'm aterrible proofreader, so sorry.

On a completely different note, 600 reviews! Thank you all so much! I started this story thinking I'd be happy if I broke twenty. So, thanks again.

Disclaimer: I'm poor. Don't sue me.

* * *

Ginny sat on her bed with her knees pulled tight against her chest, trying to figure out exactly what had just happened. Almost woodenly she'd changed from her wet clothes into her warm flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt.

She couldn't count the times she'd been in that exact same position with boys: Harry, Colin, Dean, not to mention all of her brothers but they really didn't count. But never had she felt the rust of pure exhilaration she'd felt looking down at Draco in that one moment.

There was nothing quite like Draco when he smiled, she decided. The picture of him poking his head out from behind his tree, snowball in hand was so far detached from the likeness of his angelic face curled into a cruel sneer that it was almost impossible to associate the two. Her mind had effectively split in two, one part holding images of Draco as she knew him, the other, much smaller part, squirreling away the brief glimpses of Draco as she was coming to know him.

One, how he looked when he talked to Blaise. Calm, relaxed, occasionally grinning. Another the contentment she'd seen on his face when she'd caught him sleeping. Also the pride and concern she could see in his eyes when he spoke about his mother. And now, a new one; Draco laughing and playing in the snow with the exuberance of a child.

She couldn't think of a time, even when he was with Blaise that she had seen him look so untroubled. She wondered sadly if it was, perhaps, the first time he had been.

With a frustrated sigh she stood and crossed the room stopping in front of her mirror.

_You're far too nice for your own good, Ginny Weasley. _She scolded herself. She'd been saying that same thing for years and nothing seemed to have changed. Self-criticism was obviously not her forte.

She picked dejectedly at a misplaced strand of hair. She'd always had a soft spot for it. Unfortunately, it gave her away far too easily. Redheads blushed more than anyone else. In the mirror, she could see her cheeks were still flushed. She stared at her reflection for several moments until it blurred and faded away and she was left sitting in quiet contemplation. A quiet tapping brought her back from her pondering, her eyes snapping back into focus. For a moment, she had to search for the source of the noise, and finally identified it as coming from the window. She pushed aside her curtains and found herself facing a large, black owl.

She opened the window and the bird jumped over the jam, and looked up at her from where it now sat on her window seal. She recognized it immediately: the owl from that night in the owlery: Snape.

She hesitated a second, unsure of what to do, but finally she smiled down at the thing. She hadn't said anything to anyone about Snape yet, and she didn't plan to. If there was one thing she could gather about her potions master, was that he cared about Malfoy. And she trusted him. Mostly.

She stuck out her arm for the bird to step on. "You'll be wanting the next window up then." The large eyes scrutinized her for a long moment and Ginny was quite sure Snape was trying to figure out if she recognized it was him or not.

"You must be looking for Draco. You're far too pretty to be from anyone we know." She said. Which was true; Snape made for a lovely owl. "I'll go tell him to unlock his window."

The bird finally turned away from her and hopped back out of the window. She quickly turned and ran up the stairs, stopping when she reached his door. After a short pause, she knocked on his door. He answered and she thought for a second she saw surprise register in his eyes.

He smirked. "Can't be without me even ten minutes, can you Weasley?"

"Remind me to never do you a favor again." She said, remembering at that moment that her cheeks had still been red several minutes ago and wondering if they still were. "Unlock you're window. You've made a poor owl wait outside in the cold for you."

He, leaving the door, unlocked the window and immediately the owl entered in a flurry of wings and feathers, making Draco duck to get out of its way. The raptor landed easily on the boy's trunk.

The blonde reached out and took a letter from the birds foot that Ginny was quite sure had not been there a second ago. It was probably enchanted to appear only to Draco. He unrolled it and began to read.

Ginny stood awkwardly at the door that he had left ajar. She didn't know if she was supposed to leave or just stay there. He hadn't indicated that she should go, but then again, he wasn't exactly throwing the door open for her.

"You can come in, you know." He said without looking up, startling Ginny.

"Excuse me?"

"I said you could come in." This time he looked up at her over the parchment he was reading. He was obviously amused by her unease, which was annoying to no end. With a huff, she entered the room and glared at him, but he had returned to his reading. After only another second, he tossed the letter aside.

She didn't feel any less awkward standing there in the middle of his room than she had felt standing outside it. She waited silently while he went to his trunk (the bird moving aside obligingly) and fished out another length of parchment, tying it to the birds outstretched leg. With its load secure, the owl flew silently back out into the cold afternoon.

She touched her cheek, quite sure that by now it had to be back to its normal color. "Lovely owl."

Draco made a noise, which could have either been an agreement or a sneeze.

"I don't have one." She said, shifting from foot to foot. "Always wanted one, actually. I though for sure mum would get me one for making prefect, but she sent me a new dress robe instead. Didn't have the heart to tell her it was absolutely dreadful." She was prattling on, but she couldn't seem to stop herself. "It was pink, and kind of lacy. Kind of like Ron's dress robes, actually. Do you remember those? He was mortified."

She bit down on the inside of her cheek. Not only had she now thoroughly embarrassed herself, she had brought up a memory so horrifying for Ron that it was likely he'd kill her if he found out.

Draco was facing her now, and didn't seem like he was going to say or do anything to assuage her discomfort. She couldn't see it, but she knew that he was immensely enjoying it. She was about to make up some reason why she would have to leave, when he, very casually asked, "How about a game of wizard's chess then?"

She shrugged but it didn't matter because he was already at his truck digging through his belongings. He took a seat on the bed and began setting up the board without looking at her. When he was done, he glanced up at her expectantly as though he couldn't figure out why she hadn't sat down yet. She sat.

On a broom, she flew recklessly. It was something she'd learned from Harry. But when she played chess, she sat, examined her pieces, calculated each move in her head, tried to guess where her opponent would move and finally, after much deliberation, would make her move. Draco, on the other hand, seemed to make moves at random, examining the board only a second before moving his piece.

She lost. Horribly.

Ginny glared at him. "I really don't like you sometimes."

Draco grinned back at her, obviously pleased with himself. "All part of my charm, love."

He set the board up without asking whether she wanted to play again. She doubted he'd even thought about it.

It was comfortable; quiet other than Ginny's occasional outbreaks when he made a particularly frustrating move, but nice. After two more games she stood and stretched her legs.

"I can't take anymore of this. If I wanted to get beaten this badly I would have played Ron."

"Weaselbee?" He asked, the expression on his face something akin to what it would have been if she had told him that McGonagall had suddenly given up teaching to become an exotic dancer; one of almost equal disgust and surprise.

She cocked an eyebrow in a superior manner. "_Ron,_" she said putting emphasis on his name "happens to be a fantastic chess player."

She was suddenly very proud of her brother. She made a mental note to get him something especially nice for Christmas.

After a moment, Draco shrugged. "Well, statistically, he had to be good at something."

She frowned, "Stop being so horrible."

"_I'm _fabulous, he's the one that makes small children cry."

She snorted. "You're loosing you edge, Malfoy. That was only vaguely insulting and not very clever."

"Yeah, well, it's an off day. Get back to me tomorrow."

She frowned at him again.

"I'm hungry." She said suddenly, and walked out.

He couldn't tell whether she was being abrupt because she was angry or not. He doubted it. She hadn't seemed upset, at least not anymore than her everyday frustration with him. After a second, her bright red head appeared in the doorway.

"Aren't you coming?"

* * *

Being alone with a room full of Weasleys was not high up on the list of things Draco had ever wanted to do. In fact, it landed somewhere between eating a live bug and poking an annoyed hippogriff. It even beat out going a day without his hair gel. So far, they had been fairly civil, which he was now convinced was all a clever ruse to lure him into a false sense of security. Ginny, her mother, and Hermione had spent almost half an hour in the kitchen cooking lunch. Ginny hadn't looked very pleased about. She wasn't, she informed him, exactly the domestic type. A fact that the loud, shrill, shrieking alarm had confirmed. Hermione came out of the kitchen waving the smoke away with a cookie sheet to inform them everything was all right.

As for the men in the house, they sat around in the living room staring at each other. Or, more accurately, glaring. Charlie seemed rather exasperated with all of them and struck up a game of exploding slaps with William, who was too young and too detached to have much stake in the rivalry. But the rest of them sat glaring, the coffee table a clear line of demarcation; Draco on one side, the Weasleys on the other. He looked over at Harry (loyally glaring with the rest of them) and noticed he looked rather faint.

"All right there, Potter? You're looking a bit peaky."

Ron glared. "What's next, Malfoy, gonna insult his mum too?"

But Harry didn't answer. Draco said, "Don't be stupid, Weasley, look at him."

"I'm fine." Harry said, but he wasn't glaring anymore and his hand had gone to his forehead.

"Maybe we should go upstairs." Ron said, helping Harry to his feet and then up the stairs.

Charlie stopped playing with William. "Hey, Will, why don't you go on in the kitchen and see if the girls need any help?"

William frowned. "I don't want to. I hate cooking." He said, because to a ten-year-old boy, being forced to cook with a bunch of girls was the equivalent of dying a long, painful death.

"Well then," Charlie said patiently. "You can put out Ginny's fires."

With feigned reluctance the boy got up and ran to the kitchen. Even if cooking was feminine, playing with fire was enough to outweigh it.

Draco didn't like the sound of this. It seemed that the boys had moved forward on the couch. Out of seemingly nowhere the speccy one appeared. Or maybe he had been there the whole time; Draco had a hard time noticing that one.

Even Charlie, the only one Draco trusted not to kill him in his sleep, looked solemn. "See, Malfoy, there was something we wanted to talk to you about; we just haven't had the right opportunity until now, because we didn't really want Harry or Ron –actually, mostly just Ron really- here. We wanted to know-what I mean to say is-"

Charlie seemed to falter, too many words tumbling off his tongue at once forming an unintelligible burble. He was blushing brilliantly, and the rest of the Weasley brothers had moved even further towards him starting at Draco with positively predatory gazes.

"Are you shagging Ginny?" Fred (or possibly George) asked.

Draco nearly choked; they couldn't have found a more tactless way to put that if they had tried. Or maybe that was the point. "I- I mean- what?"

"You heard me." The other twin said. Draco paused to wonder at this rather loose use of pronouns before even trying to formulate a response.

"I don't- I don't know what you're talking about."

"Shove it, Malfoy. You just show up out of nowhere, asking to spend the holiday with her- who up until like, a week ago, you couldn't stand- and you expect us not to be a little suspicious?"

"No." Draco answered, shaking himself from his stupor.

"No? Do you think we're complete idi-" He stood up

"Fred, I think he meant no to the first question." Charlie said.

"Oh." Fred said, sitting back down.

"You and Ginny- you're not…then?" George asked.

"No." He said. He was desperately groping his mind for a clever response but he couldn't think of any. "Err…no…you…"

Draco was feeling very unpopular at the moment. Charlie was smiling encouragingly at him, but the others had closed in on him until he was completely cornered.

"I'd-I'd never lower myself to that level." He managed.

The twins emitted two identical scoffs, Percy sniffed his disappointment, Charlie looked rather crestfallen, and Bill glowered, an expression that combined with his fang earring was rather intimidating.

"Don't even try that, Malfoy. Don't think we haven't seen you looking at her, even if Ron and Harry are too blind to see." Fred said.

"Hermione saw it though. Spot on, that girl. Never would have noticed it myself if she hadn't said something." George added.

Draco glared, wondering if the girl had nothing better to talk about than him. Actually, he rather understood her predicament; there _was _nothing better to talk about other than him.

"If you really think I'd…do that…then you have then mental capacity of a squid."

He cursed himself. He sounded like a ten year-old. _Do that_. Merlin, why couldn't he even say the word sex? That was Ron's department. Not him. At least it helped out his story. Not that it was a story, he really wasn't with Ginny. Or maybe, because he was being such a royal wanker about the whole thing, they would just assume he was lying. Draco was quite sure he didn't want to be around if the Weasley brothers decided he _was_ lying. Merlin, he thought again, he was babbling and he wasn't even talking out loud.

"You know, I've been called a lot of things, especially when it comes to Ginny, but I'm pretty sure squid is a new one." Bill said thoughtfully.

"The point is Malfoy, you don't want us angry at you. We can be like…. an angry cat…when we're angry." Charlie said. Threats were not his area of expertise.

"Angry cats?" Fred scoffed. "C'mon Charlie, can't you do better than that?"

"We're more like…an angry lion." George said.

"Like two angry lions!" Fred agreed. "Two really hungry, really mean, angry lions."

"Hungry lions?" George asked thoughtfully. "Really, I don't think that's quite impressive enough."

"You were the one who said lions in the first place!" Bill said.

"Only because he said _angry cats_! Now what self-respecting man would be afraid of a _cat_?"

"Well," Charlie said defensively, "maybe if the cat had rabies."

"Ahh, see Charlie, you have to clarify these things. An angry cat with rabies." George said trying it out. "Nope, still not quite terrifying enough."

"McGonagall." Bill said. "McGonagall is a cat, and she's bloody well scary enough."

"Thanks, Bill." Said Charlie looking pleased.

"Dragons." Fred said suddenly.

"What?" The three other boys asked in union.

"Dragons are scary." Fred pointed out.

Charlie stiffened. "I kind of resent that, actually, that after all these years you still fit dragons into that stereotype. I've told you, they're simply misunderstood. Didn't you read those pamphlets I brought back from Romania?"

"Right, Charlie, because that really sounds like something we'd do." Fred said.

"I didn't even do school work when I was in school." George agreed.

"Ahem." Draco said. "Maybe we should get back to the matter at hand. I'll just pretend you came up with some stunningly clever threat, and that I'm properly intimidated. How does that sound?"

"You know, Malfoy." Percy said suddenly, breaking his silence. "I don't appreciate that cheeky tone of yours."

Draco grinned. "I've always been told I had very lovely cheeks, actually, but mostly by females. However, if that's how you get your jollies far be it from me to stop you from looking."

Percy flushed horribly and straightened his glasses. "You're not funny."

"Really?" Draco asked. "Because I thought it was extremely funny. I mean, the delivery might need a bit of work, but, I thought it was pretty good for improvising."

"This is ridiculous!" Percy snapped. He looked for his brothers for help but they all were hiding behinds their hands trying not to snicker. Percy screamed in frustration. "I didn't come here to take this abuse from a bunch of…of… _ruffians_! Mr. Malfoy, stay away from Ginny. She's the only one in this house with the potential to be redeemed. Although, after spending all that time with these hooligans-"

"You hear that, Gred, we're hooligans!"

"I did indeed, Forge. And ruffians too!"

Percy stomped his foot. "I've said my piece. I hope you take my advice, Mr. Malfoy. I wouldn't usually abuse my power at the ministry, but I might make an exception if you harm my little sister. I could make things very difficult for you indeed!" He said in a huff and stormed of to his room.

"Yeah," George said darkly. "It would be kind of hard to get around with a speccy little git running around behind you threatening you with his stapler."

"Good thing Percy hates you." Fred said.

"Or there'd be nothing good about you at all." George finished.

"I wouldn't say _nothing_; I've been told I have lovely eyes."

"Stow it, Malfoy, we still don't like you." Bill said.

"Well that's good, or otherwise I'd have to spend a great deal of time examining my life choices and trying to figure out what I've done wrong."

"Malfoy…if you're not here for Ginny…then, why…?"

Draco was suddenly on edge. "I can't tell you and it's none of your business."

"We don't care if you're here because you and Snape are secretly lovers and have just had a bit of a spat." Draco blanched. "We just need to know that Ginny's not in any harm." Bill said.

"Ginny always in danger. We all are." Draco said. "Especially Potty and his little friends."

"That's not what I meant."

"Look, you're sister's fine. With all of you swarming around her, I don't know how she couldn't be."

Just then, Ginny burst into the room, grinning and covered in flour. "I finally burned enough stuff she let me out."

She stared at them all. "It got awfully quiet all of the sudden. Were you all talking about me?"

"Merlin's beard, Weasley. And you call _me _vain." Draco drawled.

She smiled. "Look, what ever vague threats they've come up with, just ignore it. I've hidden all the sharp objects."

"I'm so comforted." He said with a snort.

"I have to go change." She said, trying to wipe some of the flour from her clothes. "Cooking's hard."

After she had been gone a second, Hermione appeared.

"Is she gone?" The girl asked with a quick inspection of the room. "Merlin, that girl is terrifying with a spatula. Mrs. Weasley says everything's ready if you boys want to go ahead and eat."

"Thanks." Bill said. "You might want to go in and check on Harry and Ron; Harry was looking a little green."

Hermione stared at them in wonder; she had mentioned food and not a single one of the Weasley boys had jumped up and ran in the direction of the kitchen. She stared at them skeptically. "What are you all planning? Should I be concerned?"

"Why, Hermione!" Fred said, aghast. "Why would you ever say such a thing? Have we ever given you reason to mistrust us?"

She stared back and forth between the couch full of redheaded boys and Draco, who was coolly examining his nails.

"Well, come on then, boys. Hermione's giving us that look like she's about to deduct house points. I think we were just about finished here anyway." Bill said, and stood.

Reluctantly, the other Weasleys stood, and walked off to the dining room. With one last baffled look, Hermione went upstairs, presumably to check on Potter.

Draco sighed, closed his eyes and allowed himself to sink back into the chair.

"Malfoy…" Charlie said. He had reappeared at the door.

Draco didn't move.

"Malfoy…you'd tell me if Ginny was in any kind of trouble, wouldn't you?"

"Ginny's a big girl." He said. Draco's eyes were still closed, and he could hear Charlie shuffle his feet. He paused waiting to hear the sound of footsteps, but they didn't come.

"Keep an eye on her, Malfoy." Charlie said finally and returned to the kitchen.

A moment later, Ginny descended the stairs. "Awake, Malfoy?"

He lazily opened one eye to look at her. "Don't suppose you'd just bring my food in here would you?"

She laughed. "I, Draco Malfoy, am not a house elf."

"Yes, forgive me, I sometimes forget; the resemblance is uncanny."

Just then, the trio came down the stairs, Ron's arm around Harry's shoulder, and Hermione fluttering about behind the two boys like a mother hen. Ron, Ginny noticed, was glaring with particular ferocity. The small group disappeared into the dining room, and Draco turned and smirked at her and she could tell he was gloating.

"Fine then, but don't get used to it." She said, and followed the rest of her family into the kitchen, reemerging a moment later with two plates of food. She handed him one and took a seat on the floor, leaning back comfortably against the sofa.

He, for the first time, righted himself in the chair.

"What, no drink?" He asked, grinning. She stuck her tongue out at him. He picked cautiously at the food for a moment, before taking a hesitant bite.

She smiled. "Don't worry. Mum made that bit. Completely safe to eat."

From the dining room, Mrs. Weasley's voice sounded. "Oh, good, you're father's home."

And a second later the front door opened and Mr. Weasley came in, dropping his cloak on the rack.

"How was work, Dad?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, the same. People just don't understand how serious a crime it is to go messing about with the poor muggles. _Fifteen_ cases of nose-biting tea cups, that just _happened_ to end up in muggle shops." Mr. Weasley said, crossing the room and kissing his daughter on the forehead.

"Dinner time already?" He asked, noticing the plates. "Why are you two out here? Your mum didn't kick you out again did she?"

Ginny smiled. "No. Just a bit quieter out here."

"Oh." He said. "More company tonight then?"

"Just the usual crowd." She answered. "And Kingsley's here too, his turn on guard."

Her father nodded. The kitchen door opened and William was peeking out.

"Hiya, Uncle Arthur." He said, grinning a nearly toothless grin, which his uncle happily returned.

Mr. Weasley gave his daughter a wink, before following his nephew.

Ginny smiled. "I'm really glad they came, my family, I mean. I know Mum and Dad have missed having the house full of kids."

"At least they'll always have the Weasel to take care of them. Merlin knows he'll never find himself a girl and move out."

"And you wonder why he doesn't like you."

"Oh no, I know exactly why he doesn't like me. I've worked very hard at insuring that very fact."

"And Will's an absolute doll." She said, apparently deciding to ignore him. "It's been really good for Sirius too."

"Sirius…" Draco said, trying to place the name. He'd only heard of one other Sirius and that was Sirius Black and she certainly wasn't talking about him.

"The big, dark, kind of scruffy man who hangs around with Lupin."

"Yes, he did look rather familiar."

Ginny snorted. "He should; he's your cousin. Not that he'd admit to it. He was blasted of the Black family tree ages ago."

Draco choked on his roast beef. "_Black? _That's _Sirius Black_? The _murderer_?"

Ginny looked startled. "I thought you would have figured it out by now." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "And he didn't murder them. I would have thought you would have known that too. It was the Death Eaters who set him up."

"And I know exactly what the Death Eaters are planning, then?" He said coldly, and his eyes were filled with a quiet kind of rage that she didn't quite understand, but she did know she had said something horribly wrong.

"Malfoy, I didn't mean it like that." She said.

"Yes you did. But don't worry, if I was you, I'd hate me too." Then he paused. "No, actually, I'd be positively taken with myself, but that's just me."

Ginny smiled. "No, really Draco, I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. I just assumed your father would have said something…"

"He didn't." Draco answered so harshly that she was again taken aback. They sat in a long silence. Then, hesitantly, she reached forward and put her hand on his, lightly at first, as if afraid he would pull back, then more assured. He was much higher than her, he still seated on the chair and her on the floor, and the position looked unnatural.

He looked at his hand with an emotion she couldn't place. There was some amusement in it, but also something almost like sadness. And at the same time, there was a detached quality, as though he wasn't looking at his hand at all.

"I said I didn't want your pity, Weasley."

"Good, because I'm not giving it too you." She smiled. "I was asking your forgiveness."

Suddenly, his eyes focused and he leaned down towards her with a raucous grin. "Really, and what would you do for it?"

Her breath caught and she found herself staring into his gray eyes, knowing that she should say something, but also incapable of saying anything. And his eyes were laughing, and she hated that, hated the fact that he once again had the upper hand, but she couldn't move.

"I don't care what you say, the Gargoyles are rubbish." Someone said, as the door that adjoined the living room to the dinning room swung open. Within a second, Ginny had retracted her hand and Draco barely managed to keep himself from sprouting several loud and extremely rude words. Once again, he'd had the perfect opportunity, and it had been ruined.

Charlie and Bill were walking amicably towards the stairs.

"But their last match was bloody brilliant." Charlie insisted.

"Anyone who chooses to be called after a great ugly hunk of stone is an unbelievably prat." Bill said, and then he noticed Ginny and Draco. "Gin, mind if I tag along with you to Diagon Alley tomorrow. I promise I won't say anything embarrassing to your boyfriend."

"Seamus is not my boyfriend!" She said. "And you can come along on the condition you don't call him that."

"Night, Gin." Charlie called, and then the two boys headed upstairs.

"Well," Ginny said standing up. "I'd better go do some homework."

"Homework?" Draco asked. "You've still got ages to finish it."

"I just like to get things done early. Guess I've been hanging out a bit too much with Hermione." Then she scurried off towards the stairs, trying to escape as quickly as possible. And she would never really be able to say what had compelled her to, but she stopped. "You're coming tomorrow right? To Diagon Alley?"

"I hadn't thought about it." He said with a shrug.

"You should. I'll have to help Seamus in the morning, and I know you'll hate that, but we could meet up later."

"I guess." He said.

"Oh…okay then." She turned and began her ascension up the stairs.

She had just reached the foot of the second landing when she heard him call. "Goodnight, Weasley," and she smiled to herself.

Draco, downstairs, was still sulking over his lost opportunity. _Every single bloody time_ he got close, something got in his way. He'd fix that somehow; he had too. It was like some kind of cosmic joke, and as far as he was concerned, it wasn't funny. This was turning from amusement into obsession. Last night he'd dreamt about her. She'd been in his bedroom, the one back in the Slytherin dorms, just sitting on his bed staring up at him, and just as he moved in to kiss her, he'd woken up. He'd had conquests like this before- girls he'd been determined to date- but it had never been this _hard_ before. They'd always simply given into his charm. And, he'd never been so distracted with it before. He found himself picturing what it would be like to kiss her; he could almost smell the vanilla on her, taste her lips on his. He could still feel the warmth of her hand where it had been on his, and he pictured her small, warm hands on his neck, in his hair.

He frowned; this was getting ridiculous. He sounded like some lovesick nancy and he didn't even like the girl. He couldn't quite categorize the way he felt about her, he would have called it lust, but he'd experienced lust and he knew that that wasn't what he was feeling now. Intoxication maybe. Whatever it was, he wasn't entirely sure he liked it. In fact, he was quite sure he didn't.

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. He wasn't sure what had made him recall it, but at that moment, he remembered Ron's words from earlier that day. _Not only did Seamus date my sister, he broke her heart._

He stood and made his way up the stairs to his room. Maybe, he decided, he'd have a little talk with Seamus.

* * *

Ugg...I really meant to get all the way through the Diagon Alley scenes in this chapter (yes, I know I said that LAST TIME too, but like I said, I'm a horrible liar; I'm thinking about going to someone about it), but it was just so long. Anyway, I swear, it's in the next chapter (in fact that's how the next chapter starts out) and a huge part of the plot comes up (just so you don't give up in actually thinking that there is one).

Again, thanks so much for your reviewing! It's what makes me keep writing. Now, go hit the pretty little button that says review so I know you all haven't forgotten about me.


	34. Chapter Thirty Four

Wow! A reasonably quick update. Amazing isn't it. Anyway, this chapter is INCREDIBLY long (34 pages! A new record for me) and bit of it were really hard to write, so constructive criticism and comments are especially encouraged for this chapter. Please!

Oh, and just a quick note about the timeline of this story, which is kind of odd. The Order of the Phoenix is there, so obviously at least the first part of the fifth book took place, but a certain charecter is still alive (I'm trying to avoid spoilers, but really, if you haven't read the fifth book yet, put down this fanfiction immeadiatly and go read it) so, the end didn't. So basically, its as if the end of the book never happened and Harry and the gang actually got a little rest. And, of course, I started this long before the sixth book came out, so all information from HBP is basically fully ignored.

* * *

The first sensation he felt that morning was one of extreme cold. At first, he dismissed it as the drafts of the cold, damp, dungeon. But then he was aware that it was more than moist, it was soaking wet. And not only that, but he could hear muffled snickers. He sat up, remembering he wasn't in the dungeon at all and intent on murdering whoever had woken him from his comfortable sleep. He opened his eyes, almost expecting to see Ginny, but instead he saw Ron and Harry, a few drops of water dripping from the tip of the redhead's wand. 

"I am going to kill you both." He said slowly.

"Up and at'em, sunshine." Harry said with malicious cheer.

Ron snickered. "Nice pajama's Malfoy. You're whiter than the sheets."

Draco glanced down at his pale, bare chest and green and satin pajama pants, then at Ron. "Right back at'ya." He said.

Ron flushed, looking down at his own pajamas- a white t-shirt and a pair of long flannel pants with fire engines on them. "Hermione bought them." He mumbled.

Draco smirked. "Really, if you two wanted to see me all roughed up in bed…"

Ron flushed even worse and Harry looked disgusted. "Actually we've got better things to do, thanks."

Draco sneered. "Moaning Myrtle doesn't count, Potter," He said, "And neither do-"

Mudbloods. Mudbloods, he was about to say, but he had stopped himself just in time. If he said that, Ron would punch him, then Ginny would have found out, and then she'd hate him and there'd be no possibility of having any fun at all that holiday.

Ron was red again, his face rivaling the shade of a tomato. "What were you about to say, Malfoy?"

"It wasn't very nice, I'm afraid." Draco slapped his hand. "Bad, Draco."

"Malfoy," Ron said, advancing very quickly, "You'd better hope-"

"What's going on in here?" Ginny demanded, pushing the door open.

"Yeah," Draco said, "Thanks for the knock, Weasley."

"I could go back outside and let Ron have his way with you." She snapped, then, at the disgusted look of all three boys, she added. "That didn't come out right."

"No, no, don't let him touch me!" Draco said with mock desperation and a sneer. "Really, what _is_ your family's sick fascination with my body, Weasley?"

"The better question is why are you still in bed? I came to wake you up forty-five minutes ago!" She said, "We're going to be late!"

Draco tried to think back forty-five minutes, but was quite sure he had no memories of her trying to wake him up whatsoever. He glanced at his watch; it was only nine o'clock. Nearly an hour earlier, when she claimed she had tried to wake him up, it would have only been eight. That was just criminal. The day didn't officially start until noon.

"It's still early." He said, lying back down and closing his eyes with the intention of sleeping another hour or two. "Go sleep."

"Oh no you don't, Draco Malfoy." Said Ginny as she snatched his blanket away from him. He screamed like a banshee.

"Oh, you great baby, get up." She said, sounding exasperated.

"Diagon Alley will still be there in an hour."

"But Seamus won't."

"Just one of the many advantages of going back to sleep." He said rolling over and pulling the pillow over his head. She promptly snatched that away as well.

"So help me, you _will_ get up." She said.

"Better do as your mum says, Malfoy." Ron said snickering.

"And would you two get out of here and go get ready!" Ginny barked and threw the pillow at them, narrowly missing Ron's head. The two boys hurried out, having on more than one occasion incurred the wrath of Ginny.

"If you are not out of that bed and headed for the shower in forty seconds, you'll find out what if feels like to spend the day as a parakeet."

"Fine, fine." He said, and slowly slipped on leg over the edge of the bed.

"Five, six, seven, I'm waiting, Malfoy. Eleven, twelve-"

He got out of the bed; she followed him down the stairs and to the bathroom door.

"Do you need to follow me in there too?" Draco asked.

"No, I think you can take it from here." Ginny replied smiling sweetly. "Just don't take too long." And then she disappeared down the stairs.

Normally, he took short showers, but just for the fun of it, he added nearly twenty minutes of bathing time simply to annoy her. Then, in addition to his already extensive morning ritual of getting ready, he took extra care to insure that his hair was flawlessly brushed and jelled. Once he was sure he was not only groomed to perfection, but also late enough that Ginny would be suitably annoyed, he sauntered down the stairs. Not at all to his surprise, the entire Weasley family, with the exception of Arthur (who was still at work), and Percy (who had chosen not to participate in the family outing), was standing at the fireplace waiting for him.

"But Mother, really, why can't we just stay here with Percy?" One of Ginny's cousins's asked. It was one of the small, bookish-looking twins.

"Because, Jack, this is a _family _vacation and-" The woman Ginny had pointed out as her Aunt May answered. She was holding a crying baby and looked incredibly worn.

"Percy's our family." The other twin pointed out reasonably.

"Yes, well Percy is also an adult, and your not. Now you're coming." Said the woman, and behind her Fred and George were sticking their tongues out at the smaller set of twins.

"Bit of a disappointment to them really." Ginny, who had appeared at Draco's side, said quietly. "They were thrilled when they heard May was having twins. Thought they had two little prodigies on their hands, 'til Jack and Jim came out like two mini Percys."

"That's not fair." One said, sounding rather whiney. If he had to guess, Draco would have said the boys were about seven, eight maybe.

"Get stuffed." William muttered to his brothers, and Fred and George both patted him on the shoulder.

"William, however," Ginny informed Draco, still talking in hushed tones, "Is their absolute greatest accomplishment. He's only ten and he's already almost as bad as they've ever been."

"Would you boys stop? You are going and that's final!"

"Fine." They both said, sullenly.

"Okay then, you three go first. Stay there to meet the children." Mrs. Weasley said, addressing Harry, Ron and Hermione. They each took a small handful of Floo powder and disappeared into the flame. After them, the Weasleys departed one by one, the youngest first, with Draco going along last.

By the time he arrived, May was already in a panic, and the others were trying to calm her.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"William." Ginny answered. "William never showed up."

"And you're sure that you three didn't see him?" Ginny's uncle was asking Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

"No." Ron answered. "He never came."

"Well, now don't worry." Mrs. Weasley said. "He probably just didn't speak clearly enough. He couldn't have gotten too far away. We'll just split up and look for him."

"We'll go this way." Fred and George both said and headed off to the left.

Draco was thrilled, watching the Weasleys head off. He hadn't known how he was going to sneak away and get to Seamus before Ginny did. This made for the perfect excuse.

"I'll go this way." Draco said, pointing off in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Ginny asked.

"I'm a big boy, Weasley."

She frowned. "But-"

"Red hair, freckles, about this tall-" He paused and indicated somewhere towards the middle of his torso, "and answers to the name of William."

She was still frowning, but he didn't really mind. He turned and hurried off, hoping he wouldn't actually find the boy. How inconvenient that would be.

It was a particularly crowded day, what with Christmas less than two weeks away. Draco had to fight his way through the horde to get to the doors of the pub, and once there he had to search for several minutes before he actually found Seamus. He was seated in a booth in the back, looking about casually. Draco really hadn't known if this was where Ginny and him were supposed to be meeting, but he had gone on a hunch. And he was right; Gryffindors really were pathetically predictable.

He crossed the room with a purposeful, elegant stride and sat down across from Seamus, who was looking shocked and none to pleased too see him.

"'lo Finnigan." Draco said nonchalantly, as if they had lunch together everyday. "Ginny'll be a little late."

"Malfoy." Seamus answered, almost, but not quite, maliciously.

"Now, what kind of manners did your mum teach you? Is that the all the greeting I get?"

"You're lucky your greeting didn't involve me hitting you across the head with that chair." The other boy said glaring.

Draco winced. "Can we just cut past this pathetic attempt at witty repartee, because, really, that's just sad. I mean, seriously, expecting you to come up with anything clever is kind of like expecting a movie like, 'Things You Would Never Have Thought to do With a Broomstick' to have intelligent dialogue and a well-thought plotline."

"So did you just come here to insult me or was there something you wanted to say?" Seamus asked through grit teeth. He really wanted to hit him, Draco could tell. In a way, Draco almost wished he would. At least then he could have some respect for the Irish boy. But no, like a good little Gryffindor, Seamus stayed seated across from him.

"Ginny Weasley." Draco said.

There was a long pause. Finally, against his better judgment, Seamus asked, "So what about her?"

"If you hurt her in any way, I'll kill you." Draco said simply.

Gaping, Seamus tried to say something, but Draco cut him off. "If you break her heart, or upset her, I'll kill you. I could come up with some stunningly clever threat of how I'd kill you, but, really, it would be wasted on you. Just suffice it to say it would be painful and would probably involve a pair of dull hedge clippers."

"You're insane." Seamus said, looking at him incredulously.

"Yes, well so I've been told. And I also suggest that you don't tell her about this." He stood and dusted of his robes. "Well, then, it's good that we've had this chat."

He hurried out of the building and wondered if he should at least glance about for Ginny's cousin. He scanned the crowd of people and stopped when he caught a glimpse of bright red. The crowd covered it now, but he had been sure he had seen it. Then, as the throng parted again, he saw Ginny moving in his direction.

"Oy, Draco," She called, "We found him."

Draco quickened his pace and met her. "Where was he?"

"Gambol and Japes Joke Shop. Not quite as impressive as Zonko's, but Fred and George have still told him enough about that he Flooed there instead. His mum was furious." She said, and she was grinning.

Ginny grabbed his wrist and checked his watch. "I'd best go meet Seamus, I'm twenty minutes late already."

"I'm sure he'll understand."

"I should be done by noon or so." She said hesitantly.

"Fine." He said. "I'll be at Flourish and Blotts."

Ginny couldn't tell if it was an invitation or not. It was one of the most amazing, annoying things about him, that no matter what he said it could have a thousand meanings.

Sensing her ambivalence, he smirked at her. "I'll meet you there." He said deliberately.

She smiled brightly, and then rushed off in the direction of the inn.

* * *

The hostess smiled graciously. "Can I help you, sir?" 

"Ms. Moreau should be expecting me." Draco said, smiling engagingly.

The girl's smile faltered slightly. "I'm sorry, sir, but Ms. Moreau did not mention any appointments and…" She paused, looking down at the page of her open reservation book, "You are not on the list."

"Not surprising, considering I didn't tell her I was coming. But trust me, she'll be expecting me."

"I'm sorry, but-"

"Let him come in." A girl said. She was standing at the top of a flight of stairs directly behind the reception desk. The stairway was dark, but the light from the room behind her made her figure a stunning silhouette, looking mystic and enigmatic in loose, flowing robes. She turned, and reentered the room, leaving the door behind her slightly ajar. Draco slowly climbed up the stairs and pushed the door open. The room was huge and lavish, extravagantly, but not garishly, decorated in sheer hangings and soft cushions and smelled of incense. On one wall, there was a single painting; it was a sunset, brightly lit with reds and oranges. In the middle of the room, lying like a queen awaiting homage, the girl was reclined. Her robes and hair fell over the side with a seductive air, and he was quite sure she had arranged it like that on purpose.

He grinned at her. "Always have to make an entrance. You've probably known for days I was coming and you couldn't even put me on the guest list."

"Well, I didn't make any other reservations. Now come here." The room was the one she used for special clients, ones who wanted a private room for whatever reason they might choose; she didn't ask questions.

He swiftly crossed the room, and stopped before her. Slowly, lazily, she lifted herself into a sitting position. Dutifully, he leaned down and accepted her kiss. Like always, kissing him was like something distant. Not cold, but instead like kissing an idol; something too detached and revered to be intimate. He didn't want her affection; instead he tolerated it. He managed to give the air that he was bestowing a great gift, to allow her to kiss him like that.

"You're looking well, Sylvia." He said.

"And you know you're beautiful." She said with a smile. "You don't need me to tell you that."

"Of course, but it's still nice to hear sometimes."

She wrapped her legs under her, making room for him to sit by her and laughed a musical little laugh. "Vanity, thy name is Malfoy. You weren't followed?"

"No. My father's cronies lost track of me at Kings Cross and haven't found me since."

She sighed serenely. "So tell me about her then."

"About who?"

"The redheaded girl. The girl you're in love with."

* * *

"Oh, Seamus, I'm so sorry I'm late. My cousin got lost, and I had to help look for him, and-" 

"Oh, no, Ginny, it's fine." Seamus said, but he was looking rather fidgety.

"Is something wrong?" She asked, concerned.

"No, no, nothing's wrong. So where do you want to start?"

* * *

"I'm not in love with her." Draco protested. 

"Hmm…" Was all Sylvia said.

"I'm not."

"Fine then, you're not. But tell me about her anyway." Sylvia said, and she seemed to be searching him for something. And then he did; he told her everything, from the first day in Knockturn Alley, where he had saved her and then given her the necklace, about Ginny's dreams and all he knew regarding Tom Riddle, and then staying the holiday with her. He was glad to tell her. He had considered many times telling Blaise, but after all was said and done, Blaise was really much too moral to be in Slytherin, and being Ginny's friend, he would have disapproved. And he had wanted to tell _someone _for a long time. Not just so he would be able to talk to someone about it, but also because in a very dark and Slytherin place in his heart, he was proud of himself. But Sylvia was like him. She would understand his pride without him having to explain it, and she would have answers, even though he really had no specific questions to ask. She said nothing while he recounted the past few months. He finished, and still she sat in perfect, brooding silence.

Finally she said, "So you could have done anything you wanted with her, and really, she had no choice. You have the means to find her, wherever she is, and bring her to you, and you never use it. You two have classes alone together, and yet you've never tried _anything_. You _control her dreams_ and all you've done is sit back and observe? So basically, you have complete and absolute control over this girl, and _what have you done_?"

"I-"

"You, Draco Malfoy, are in love. And with a Weasley of all people. I can't decide whether it's too pathetic to be funny or not. Really, I think it probably is, but I still can't help laughing at the irony of it all." Her tone had a brittle tone to it, and he knew what she was thinking about.

* * *

"How about this one?" He asked, holding up a purple, imitation leather purse with a large flower print on it. 

"Oh, Seamus," Ginny said frowning, "It's ghastly."

"Oh," He said, and then looked at it as if he were seeing it for the first time. "Oh, it is, isn't it?" He dropped it back on the shelf.

They had been shopping for about half and hour, and Seamus seemed horribly distracted. He kept picking up such awful, appalling things that Ginny began to wonder if perhaps he actually hated Hannah.

"Maybe we should try another store." Ginny said, steering him towards the door.

"Hmm… oh, yeah, another store. That'd be good."

"Seamus, are you alright?"

"Right as rain." He said, and held open the door for her. He followed after her, but missed the step and fell on the street.

"Oh, dear," Ginny said, looking at the small scrape on his arm. "You were saying?"

"I'm fine." He said, standing up and brushing himself off. "It's just…. you know we're not dating, right?"

Ginny stopped abruptly, and stared at him in utter disbelief, "Well, yes, I know that. Otherwise shopping for your _other_ girlfriend would have been a bit awkward. Really, Seamus, what's gotten into you?"

The immense relief on his face was almost comical. "Oh, nothing Ginny, now, where to next?"

* * *

It wasn't that he didn't kiss back, he always did. And Draco Malfoy was quite skilled; Merlin knew he'd had enough practice. But it was always an automatic bodily compulsion that he should react to her lips on his. Always he had a distracted air, that wasn't so much that he didn't care that she was kissing him, but rather that he was barely aware of it. As if her presence was barely a blip on his radar. She had known from the vary beginning that she was nothing to him, he had almost said as much, and at first, that was what she wanted. He was gorgeous, and confident, and perhaps a little younger, but skilled enough to make up for it. And it was simply amusement to them both, nothing more, and nothing less. Blaise was ecstatic about the pairing; he was convinced they would fall in love. And slowly, she did. But he hadn't, and she knew he never would. But that didn't stop her. She began to spend time with him apart from simple physical contact; she would help him with his homework, and eat dinner with him, and sometimes just sit in his room and watch him read. He read a lot, and she had loved observing him then, because he was too engrossed to notice. She could, for hours at a time study the sharp lines and angles of his face. Sometimes, he would catch her watching him, and smirk as if it was simply his due that she should love him, and then he would kiss her. But she knew. 

He did care about her, even if it was never in the way she wanted. When she had been younger, and not able to control her visions, she had often had fits. He was always first at her side, holding her hand when she had one of those episodes. And, sometimes, very rarely, he talked to her openly, without his shield of sarcasm.

One day, during the summer after his sixth year, and he had come home particularly upset. She was there, waiting for him as she often was.

"What's wrong?" She had asked, noticing the anger in his eyes.

"Nothing." He had snapped, and then he had kissed her. There was a hunger and a need in that kiss that had never been there before. She was just another out; a way of avoiding what was bothering him, a drug to numb the pain. She knew it and she didn't care, because for once, she could _feel_ something in him. He grasped at her so hard it almost hurt, slipped his hands under her shirt, sliding them up and down her back, and it shocked her because in the five months they had been dating he had never gone farther than to kiss her.

"Draco." She couldn't help herself from saying it. She had said it so many times in her head. "Draco, I love you."

He had stopped, pulled back, and was, if only for a second, shocked. Then his face had grown cold again, and emotionless and distant. "Sylvia, I don't think we should do this anymore."

"I know, Draco." And she had turned right then and left, because she knew if she hadn't she would have lost him forever. Two days later, she found a bouquet of roses on her doorstep; they were yellow, the color of friendship. She cried for three days straight, and then, she had gone to see him. And they just talked. When she left, he had caught her by the arm. "I do-I do, Sylvia, if not in that way."

And that one sentence had made her so immeasurably sad that, even now, she couldn't bring herself to think about it.

* * *

"Listen, Sylvia, I need to ask something really important of you. I need to know what you've Seen." He asked, leaning forward and taking her hand. 

"Nothing." She said quietly.

"There must be something- anything you've told _him_, everything. I need to know." Draco said, he sounded pleading, even to his own ears, but he knew there was something wrong. There was no reason the Dark Lord should have taken such an interest in Ginny Weasley, and, having grown up in his father's house he knew dark magic when he felt it. The dark energy of those dreams was almost tangible. He didn't know what it meant, but he knew it meant something. Besides that, there was still whatever his father was planning to consider. If it was important enough that Snape had wanted him a safe distance away from even the school, it had to be something major.

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"You know I only remember parts of what I See." The girl said looking horribly-was it ashamed?

"But, your scrying mirrors, you must-"

"No." She said quietly, and this time he was positive that the emotion in her beautiful blue eyes was guilt.

"I don't understand." He said bluntly.

"I block it, Draco, I block it all. My mirrors, the crystal balls- I don't use them anymore. I've even stopped drinking tea." She said suddenly, sounding desperate. "I don't want to See it, Draco. I don't want any of it. I don't want to know. When the Dark Lord- when he needs me, I tell him what I know and then- and then I _obliviate _myself." She had a wistful, almost dreamy expression as she said the last part.

"You-you what?" He sounded incredulous, bordering on disgusted.

"You don't understand what it's like!" She said savagely. "You don't know what I See!"

"But, if you used your visions, you could change things! You could go to the Order. I would take you. Hanging around with the Gryffindors is no picnic, but it's better than working for the Dark Lord. They could-"

"No, I can't betray him. You know what he'd do to me- to my family!" She grasped at him in sudden desperation.

"And besides," She added after a moment. "I can't change the things I See. That's not how it works. What I See- it _will _happen. It must."

"But there must be some way-"

"No, Draco. There's not. You don't know what it's like, what I See. I See horrible things, Draco. Why-why do you think I had those fits when I was a child? It's like living in a nightmare, only I _know_ its real. Draco, you have to understand…" She broke down, unable to say anything further. She looked up at him with pleading eyes, _needing_ him to understand what she was doing.

"Coward." He spat, and she could see the disappointment in his face. He was cruel at times, and he stepped over lines. But that had always been in anger. Never in this…disgust. It made her angry; he had no right to accuse her of anything. "You're running away, Sylvia. You-"

"Shut up, Draco. You have no right, _no right_." She could feel hot tears streaming down her face and she couldn't tell if they were of anger or sadness, or self-loathing. She had gotten to her feet at some point. "Don't _dare_ stand there and think you're better than me. _What have you ever fought for_? You're me; you're _just_ like me. You can think whatever you like, but at the end of the day we both know it."

She stood, panting, waiting for some response.

Draco looked like he'd been slapped. He sat in silence for a moment, and then finally he stood. "I guess that's it, then."

He was halfway to the door before she stopped him. "Draco-"

She crossed the room and grabbed at the frame of the painting, and after a brief struggle, the painting swung forward on old hinges with a creak. Inside was a single item: a shallow stone basin with a single string of runes inscribed around the brim. Carefully, the girl pulled it from its hiding space, and, like a child carrying a bucket too full of water, slowly brought it too him.

"It-It's not a very clear vision. But I thought you should have it. It's got your girl in it. I would have just told you myself, but, Draco, it's so _heavy_."

"Thank you." He said, and carefully preformed a shrinking charm and wrapped it gingerly in a silk handkerchief.

"And, Draco- once you see it, if you want to forget-"

"I won't." He said firmly.

"Take this then." Sylvia said, and took from under her couch a bottle.

"Firewhiskey?"

"_1845_ Firewhiskey. Not nearly as permanent as _obliviate_ but, trust me, you'll forget."

He nodded and then left, closing the door behind him. She sunk down on the floor, and silent tears began to flow down her beautiful, impassive face. She sat there for a moment, before she finally collected herself, and stood, smoothing out the wrinkles in her robe. She took a deep breath, and then another, fighting down another wave of tears. There was a small knock at her door.

"Yes?" She called, her voice perfectly unaffected.

The door slid open only a slight bit. "Miss?"

"Yes, Sarah, you can come in."

The receptionist from downstairs opened the door and offered Sylvia something. "The young man from just a moment ago left it. He said to bring it up to you."

Sylvia smiled; it was a single yellow rose.

* * *

Ginny smiled to herself. After its initial awkwardness, Seamus had gotten very pleasant, and the outing had been extremely enjoyable. They had ended up deciding upon a simple, pretty necklace for Hannah, which she was sure she would love. They had parted around twelve thirty, and she was now making her way through the crowd the Flourish and Blotts. She hurried inside, welcoming the warmth. It was not hard to find Draco; he was seated in a large armchair on the second landing of the store, a large pile of books at his side. 

"I wouldn't have taken you for much of a reader." She said breezily, reading the page over his shoulder. It was a very dull history book, an in depth examination of the events that lead up to the goblin wars.

"What, you think just because I _could _get by with just my devastating good looks that I neglect my intellectual side?" He asked, acquiring a look of mock offense.

"Actually, I rather thought you'd have better things to do than spend you're Saturday nights reading about goblins. Then I remembered who I was talking to."

"Well, it does get awfully busy between torturing the innocents, kicking orphans and coming up with the eleventh plague." He said, smirking slightly, "I take it you're not much of a reader, then."

She shrugged. "Not really. I do what I need to get by in school, and I like romance novels- don't look at me like that, nothing trashy- but aside from that, not really."

"Well if romance is what you want, there's a horribly romantic scene in here between Eargit and Urg, but it might get just a bit too graphic for you." He said very solemnly.

Biting back a smile, she asked, "And how's that?"

"Well, they don't call Urg the Unclean for nothing."

Ginny laughed. "I'm going to look around a bit, you can keep reading if you like. I'll get you when I'm done."

He nodded and returned to his book. Ginny, who was miserably behind on her Christmas shopping, searched the shelves for something appropriate for Hermione. She picked out a book on the twenty most influential wizards of the era; it was enormous and Ginny couldn't have read it in five lifetimes. She also got two books on Quidditch that had just come out; one, an in depth biography of any player of any team from the year 1100 and on, the other a rather horrifying but hilarious book that play-by-played the world's greatest Quidditch accidents. Ginny would wrap them up together and simply address it to Harry and Ron, because she knew within a month the two would have passed them both back and forth so much between them that they wouldn't remember which had been whose in the first place. She also picked up the latest book in the romance series that her mother had recently become addicted to. It was a trilogy entitled _The Wrong Side of the Wand_. Mrs. Weasley had read the first book (_Point Me_) and blushingly forbidden Ginny to go near them.

"Done?" She asked, coming back to Draco's chair. He had made surprisingly good progress with his book and, again, Ginny was surprised. She had never thought of his a dumb, but she had also never pictured him sitting around reading for pleasure.

He closed his book and gathered the three or four others he'd picked out, and stood. "I though you said you didn't read much." He said, quirking an eyebrow at the books she carried.

"They're gifts." She said, and hoped he wouldn't notice the title (_Wands Arise!_) of her mother's book.

Once they'd paid, he and Ginny simply wandered around. Ginny really had nothing in mind to get for anyone, so she simply went from store to store, looking around and buying whatever interested her. Draco was pleasant, or at least as pleasant as he always was, but after two hours he began to get impatient. He kept touching his pocket, as if assuring himself that whatever was in there hadn't been lost.

"What are you doing?" She'd asked.

"Nothing. Really, Weasley, how much longer do you expect to be? Just get everyone some nice candy, and maybe some contraceptives for your parents and be done with it."

She slapped him gently on the shoulder. "I will _not_. Give me just ten more minutes. Oh and don't look so pleased about it, I'm not saying that for you, I just promised mum we'd meet her at four to go home."

Ginny was very pleased with herself; she'd managed to cross everyone off her list in just on day. She was carrying at least seven bags full of Christmas presents waiting to be wrapped and then opened and she couldn't help but grin, thinking about Christmas morning. It was, by far, her favorite holiday.

Ginny glanced over at Draco who was walking along facing the ground, looking rather distracted. He was swinging his Flourish and Blotts bag back and forth on his arm, and it struck Ginny as an oddly childish gesture. She smiled.

"What are you so happy about?" He asked, catching her off guard.

"Oh, nothing. You could help me carry my bags, you know."

Glancing down at her burdens, then at the single bag he held in his own hand, he looked as if the thought had never occurred to him, which, Ginny was quite sure, it hadn't. "Yes, I suppose I could." He said, it wasn't sarcasm, but he didn't move to take her bags.

As they approached the Leaky Cauldron, Ginny could already see the large mass of red that was her family standing out against the crowd. Her mother rushed forward to meet them.

"Finally. Let's go, you two. Ron, what are you waiting for, help your sister with those bags!" Mrs. Weasley called.

Obligingly, Ron came and took several packages from under his sister's arm.

"Now don't look in those." Ginny snapped, "What's got mum's knickers in a knot?"

"Going barmy, I'd say. She met up with us about an hour ago and wouldn't leave. She kept saying she thought someone was following us." Ron said, looking annoyed. Ginny pitied her brother; she'd had enough shopping trips with her mother to know it was not always a pleasant experience, especially when he wanted, as she was sure he did, to say things he would prefer his mother didn't know.

"Come _on_. What in Merlin's name are you kids doing back there?"

* * *

Ginny had never been very good at wrapping presents, but it was a fun way to pass the time. Her room was beginning to resemble the North Pole, for all the presents and wrapping paper she had in there. Of course, her floor was impossible to navigate and her bed was so covered she'd probably have to sleep on the couch, but still. It was nice. She'd already gone over her mental checklist twice before she'd left Diagon Alley, to make sure she hadn't forgotten anyone, but just to be on the safe side, she thought it all through again. She gotten presents for Ron, Harry and Hermione, all her brothers, all her cousins, and even some sweets for other Order members. Remus and Tonks had been easy, because of their upcoming marriage. Sirius had been a bit more of a challenge, because really, what was there to get for a middle-aged ex-convict? But she'd found something eventually, and that, she was quite sure was everybody. And even if it hadn't been, between her mother and Malfoy she would have had to leave anyway. 

Immediately Ginny paused. _Draco_.

She hadn't even thought about Malfoy. Was she supposed to be getting him something? There were, as far as she knew, no rules of decorum that would cover this particular situation. They weren't exactly friends, but they weren't really enemies anymore either. There was really no word for her relationship with Draco. A week ago, she would have called it mutual tolerance, but it had moved apart from that somehow, in a way she could quite describe.

She'd been studying him, trying to figure him out, and found that she couldn't. Every time she thought she had him pinned down, he did something completely out of character. She'd basically just resigned herself to the fact that she would never quite understand him.

"Ginny?" There was a soft knock on the door, right before her mother started to open it.

"No, Mum! I've got presents out!" Ginny yelled, rushing to the door and knocking it closed. She heard her mother's aggravated sigh.

"Well then come out here."

Ginny slipped out the door and closed it behind her.

"Seamus is in the kitchen fireplace. He wanted to know if you could talk."

"Seamus? But I only just saw him a few hours ago." Ginny said, puzzled.

Mrs. Weasley smiled and winked. "I know. Maybe he just wanted to thank you for such a pleasant time."

"Mum. Seamus and I are not dating."

She frowned, and then, her face lit up with a glimmer of hope. "Does that mean that you and Harry-"

"Uggg! I'm more likely to date Snape than I am to date Harry. We've been over this before."

"But you two would be so love-"

"I have to go. Seamus is waiting for me downstairs." Ginny said, and hurried away.

Through the fire, Seamus smiled when he saw her. "'lo Ginny."

"Hey, Seamus."

He looked around nervously. "Err…Ginny, Malfoy's not around is he?"

"No, I haven't seen him." She replied, baffled.

"Good. Look, I know it's none of my business, but are you and Malfoy dating?"

Ginny couldn't have been more shocked if he had announced his undying devotion to Ron and asked for her assistance in wooing him. "_What?_"

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't get involved, but really, Ginny, I just think you deserve better." Seamus said.

"I- I mean- we are _not_ dating."

"You're not?" He asked, looking relieved.

"Of course not. Really, Seamus, what's gotten into you today? You're behaving so bizarrely."

"It's just that, this morning, when you were out looking for your cousin- there aren't any hedge clippers at your house are there?"

"What?"

"Hedge clippers." He said solemnly.

"Have you gone mad?"

He sighed. "This morning Malfoy came over and basically threatened to kill me if I hurt you."

Ginny felt as if she'd been struck. "He what?"

"Ginny, I don't know what's going on between you two, but-"

"Thank you Seamus, but I think I have to go have a word or two with Malfoy."

There was a bit of a panic in Seamus's voice. "But Ginny-"

But Ginny was standing up and headed in the direction of the door. "Thanks, Seamus. Have a happy Christmas."

Seamus was about to try and stop her, but she didn't look like she was in any mood to listen. And besides, what were the odds that Draco Malfoy could really find him all the way in Ireland where he was staying with relatives? It was only a slightly reassuring thought.

Ginny was on her way out of the kitchen when her mother came bustling in.

"Done already? What did Seamus have to say?"

Ginny smiled. "Oh, you were right, he just wanted to thank me for helping him again."

"Oh, wonderful. Here, help me carry all this food out." Mrs. Weasley said, handing Ginny several platters. "Dinner's ready!"

The Weasley boys came rushing down the stairs. After a moment, Ginny's Aunt and Uncle appeared too, and then last, ambling down the steps came Malfoy. As Ginny set the food down on the table, Draco came up beside her.

"What's the likelihood we can get out of dinner two nights in a row?" He asked quietly.

Ginny glared, but didn't say anything.

"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of." He said, and took a seat next to her, and she didn't even look at him. In fact, the only time she responded to him at all throughout the whole dinner was to pass the salt, and even then she remained silent. After about twenty minutes, she looked up from her plate and asked, "Can I be excused, Mum? I'd really like to head up to bed."

Her mother looked slightly startled. "Already? Are you feeling well?"

"Fine. Just a bit tired." She said, and then stood and disappeared up the stairs.

Draco waited for a while before he too excused himself and followed her. He stopped at her door and knocked.

There was no answer.

"Weasley, it's me. Let me in."

There was a long pause, and just as he was about to give up, she threw the door open. "What on _Earth_ gives you the right to just go about threatening my friends?"

"What- I-"

"Seamus said you threatened him." She said sharply. "Is that true?"

"Bloody awful Gryffindors. Can't keep their mouths closed. Too bloody _courageous_ for death threats." He mumbled.

"So you did, then?" She turned around like she was about to close the door in his face, and then thought better of it and wheeled around for a second wind. "How _dare _you! It's bad enough having six ruddy brothers to ward off every boy I come within six feet of me, but now, apparently I have you too, to get rid of everyone who doesn't measure up to your pompous standards. I can pick my own friends, thank you very much. And if Seamus and I want to- I dunno- run off to Bermuda together, you'll just have to accept that!"

"Well-"

"He thinks we're _dating_. What did you tell him?" She demanded.

Draco sneered. "Oh, so that's what this is all about, your precious reputation."

Ginny called him a name that he was quite sure she would have never said in front of her mother, with a hand gesture to match. "Well forgive me for not wanting people to think I've invited my boyfriend to spend the holiday with me! I don't care what you do or say, just make sure that next time it doesn't involve me!"

She slammed the door. He stood in shock for a moment, then, just as he turned around and began to leave, she threw the door open again. "And it's more than that. Where are you going? I'm not through."

"Sorry, but impassioned door slamming usually tends to indicate the end of a discussion."

She called him another rude word, and this time he smirked. "No, despite popular belief, my parents _were_ married. I have my birth certificate if you'd-"

"Why is it you are incapable of having a serious conversation?"

"It's not so much that I'm incapable of it-"

"Oh, just shut up. See, here's what I don't get. We're not friends are we? Because, really, I didn't think we were. In fact, I think last time I said anything along those lines you laughed in my face. So, why exactly do you care who I spend time with? The way I see it-"

"Are you dating him?"

"What?" She said, stunned. It seemed people were asking her that question a lot that day.

"Seamus. Are you dating him?"

Taken aback, she stared, open-mouthed for a second. "No, no I'm not-"

"Good." He said finally, then turned around and walked away.

* * *

Draco sat down on his bed and carefully pulled his handkerchief from his front pocket. He'd waiting until he was sure everyone else would be asleep. He restored the Pensieve to its normal size and stared at it rippling surface for a moment. He didn't want to use it. Sylvia was the most stable, fearless person he knew, and whatever had caused the pain and terror he'd seen in her eyes today, he was about to see too. He thought back, almost regretting his words. It had not been an easy life for her, while Blaise (whose mother had at one point been blasted off their family tree and was only re-added when her net worth totaled over seventeen million galleons) had been brought up in a fairly kind household, Sylvia's upbringing was much like his own. She was seven, and at a dinner party when she'd had her first vision. Draco liked to think that had she not discovered her abilities in a room full of Death Eater and their associates, that her parents would not have brought her to Voldemort, but he doubted it. The next morning they'd taken her for an audience with the Dark Lord and she'd been giving him predictions ever since. 

She had, like many of the Death Eater's children he knew, no desire to serve Voldemort. They had decided what their parents could not see; he would ultimately fail and the pureblood family names, which had once been so revered, would have been dragged through the mud in the process. He hated Lucius, because no matter how he evaded punishment, everyone knew what he really was. The Malfoy name was blighted, and it was entirely his father's fault. Sylvia hosted much the same resentment for her parents. But she loved them, and she knew what Voldemort would do to them should she ever stop serving him.

Without a moment's more hesitation, Draco dipped his fingertips in the silver liquid.

For a second, he felt as if he was falling. It would have been fine after that, had the vision not been so garbled and broken. It was something like watching a slideshow from a conveyor belt. The images jumped past him in a morbid procession; a dark, foreboding castle on a hill; a tall, hooded figure; Ginny in strange, green robes; Snape and his mother, looking down at something. He heard a harsh, muffled laughter that chilled him, and then, intermingled with it a horrible, dry scream. Then he saw Harry, and he was holding Ginny tightly, whispering something into her ear. And then he just saw Ginny, lying motionless, looking battered and beaten on a hard, stone floor. Then, with an almost painful pulling sensation, the images smeared and moved away and within a moment he was sitting on his bed at the Burrow.

He was covered in sweat, and he could still hear the laughter ringing in his ears. He didn't normally drink, with the exception of the occasional wine with a meal, but the firewhiskey he'd stashed under his pillow was, at the moment, extremely appealing. With a deep sigh, he pulled the bottle from its hiding place and took a deep swallow.

An hour later, the Firewhiskey gone, and feeling as if he weren't nearly sloshed enough, Draco made his way down to the stairs to the kitchen looking for something else to drink. He found three bottles of butterbeer and drained them. The actual alcoholic content of butterbeer was approximately the same as a piece of butterscotch, but either way, he didn't really care. He began ransacking the cupboards, looking for something else.

"Malfoy?"

He wheeled around to find Ginny standing in the doorway staring at him, holding an empty bottle.

"What are you doing up so late?" He asked, impressed by the clarity of his speech.

"The baby was hungry and I told Aunt May I'd feed him." She said, gesturing weakly to the bottle in her hands. "What are you doing?"

Sneering, he answered, "Running away, what's it look like, Weasley? Isn't that what I always do?"

"What are you-"

"Yup, just sit back, look pretty and make snarky comments. Really, it's all I'm good for."

Ginny gave him a long, hard look. "You're drunk."

He shrugged. "Maybe. Does it really matter?"

"Yes it matters." She snapped. "You're down here staring at the bottom of your bottle, pitying yourself for Merlin knows what reason-"

"Because I'm a coward." He interjected helpfully.

"Oh quit being so melodramatic." She snapped.

"Melodramatic?" He asked, the faint ghost of a smile playing on his lips. There was no hint of amusement in that expression. "I'm being entirely serious. A complete coward, I am. _What have I ever fought for?_, and all of that."

"Oh, do stop-"

"I mean, for Merlin's sake, I've been here three days and I haven't even done anything with you." He said, and she opened her mouth to say something when he grabbed her tightly by the arms and pulled her up against him, pushing his lips on hers with a fierce intensity that was almost painful. She could taste the remnants of alcohol on his hot breath, and his skin was moist with feverish warmth. For a moment, Ginny was too shocked to react. It was as if she had forgotten to move. And then, suddenly remembering herself, she wrenched away.

She pulled out her wand. "Sobriest," she snapped, and immediately, Draco felt his drunkenness fading away, the spell purging the alcohol from his body. In its place came the crashing headache and nausea that he normally would have had at least another few hours to look forward to.

"You're not supposed to use magic outside of school." He said reproachfully.

"Yes, well, it was better than listening to you wallow about in self-pity." She said coldly.

"Honestly, I'm a bit disappointed. I always thought I could hold my liquor better than that." She didn't smile, and he didn't say anything.

"You kissed me. You were drunk." She said after a long pause, as if maybe he didn't remember. He was struck by how callous and remote she sounded.

"Obviously." He said, rubbing his temples. Really, what was the point of coming up with a spell that made you sober, if there was still the hangover to deal with?

She stiffened, and for a moment Draco didn't see why. And then, of course, he understood and barely restrained himself from sprouting out several rude words. "Ginny," He touched her wrist. "Ginny, that's not what I meant."

She said, shaking and pulling her hand away sharply. The barely controlled anger in her eyes was startling. "Don't." Was all she said.

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant I wouldn't have done it like that if I had been…not that I wouldn't have done it." It could have been sweet, but instead, he sounded weary, as if the fact that he had to explain it to her was vexing. "I've wanted to do that for days now. It- it wasn't just because I was drunk. Ginny-" He stopped and very softly, he put his hands on her shoulders and drew her to him. Slowly, he closed the space between them and kissed her gently. She didn't move under his touch. "I'm sorry." He whispered, brushing his lips against her ear.

"Just because you're sorry doesn't make it alright." She said, turning and leaving him standing there in wonder.

When someone apologized, didn't the other person have to accept? Wasn't there some sort of rule about that? Maybe not necessarily an official one, but he was quite sure it was one of those unwritten things.

He stood, looking at where she had been for a long while. Finally, he went upstairs, his most pressing need, that of a bathroom in which he could vomit in peace.

* * *

So...yup. There's chapter 34 for you. Please review or I'll cry. Really. Well probably not literally, but I'll be crying on the inside. 

Oh, and err..I forgot to disclaim earlier, so here's that too: I own nothing you recognize for JKR's works or WB movies.

**And now an added note** (which is, if you get another Chapter Update thingy, the reason for that). Someone (Hyper Bee)pointed out to me the similarity of the end of this chapter andoneof the chapters from Draco Sinister, by Cassandra Claire.I actually _had_ read that story before, but well over a year ago, so I really don't remember itthat well. Any similarities were completely unintentionaland the intent was not to copy or steal any of her work. I just wanted to clarify that a bit, and thanks for pointing it out.

I do own Sylvia, who origianlly had a much larger role in the story and just sort of disappeared. I have several "deleted scenes" of her, you know, talking to Voldemort and what not, but I never found a place to fit them in. Really, though, she's a lovely charecter, so you can steal her if you like. Also, the poor Weasleys (the unknown ones, likeWilliam, and May)had a much larger role in the original plot (which has changed so much from my first ideas that it's basically not even the same story anymore), but they've sort of gotten cut out and neglected.


	35. Chapter Thirty Five

And here I am, begging you yet again to forgive me for taking an almost inhuman amount of time to update. I'm sooo sorry. I've been on vacation for the past two and a half weeks and before that I was swimming so I didn't have much time. And, not only that, but school starts in TWO days for us! But, I will nonetheless try and get a new chappie up as soon as possible.

Disclaimer: How many times must I say it? I don't own it-blah,blah,blah- no money-blah, blah, blah- don't sue me.

* * *

Ginny threw the door closed behind her and flung herself onto the bed. Then, almost as suddenly, she stood up. She was far too angry to stay still. Draco Malfoy was the world's biggest- something. She wasn't entirely sure what he was, but it was bad and he was most definitively it.

The problem with her room, she decided pacing, was that there was nothing to _tear._ At school, she had loads of old rolls of parchment filled with notes and papers and old exams that she didn't need anymore that would be wonderful to simply rip into shreds at a moment like this. However, here at the Burrow, her room was vary bare and there was nothing here she could destroy without later regretting. She settled on a pillow- it was old and flat and lumpy and she didn't use it anyway- and slashed it open with a letter opener. In large, angry fistfuls, she relieved the pillow of its feathery contents, which was not nearly as satisfying as she might have hoped. By the time she had finished, it looked as though she'd left her window open during a particularly heavy snowstorm. She then went to work on the case itself, which was much more gratifying. The resistance of the cloth and then the lovely _rip_ as it finally gave in was a better way of allaying her anger.

The very _idea_! She'd shredded the pillow into bits too small to be ripped any more and she was still livid.

Where did he get the right to come up out of nowhere and kiss her like that? What could have possibly- _possibly- _make him think that it was his prerogative to just- Honestly! She didn't even _know_ him.

Well, not to say she didn't know him, she knew him she, but she didn't _know_ him. She wasn't entirely sure what the difference was, but it was certainly there. And if he thought he could just go about _threatening_ half her friends and insulting the others (or, more likely, threatening _and _insulting them at the same time in that annoying, patronizing, sarcastic way of his) and then run off a few clever one-linners, and then everything would be okay between them, he certainly had another thing coming. She was still trying to decide whether or not she trusted him not to murder them all in their sleep, let alone kiss her.

But, of course, none of this mattered because the only reason he'd kissed her at all was because he was drunk. Ginny had never thought of herself as beautiful or anything, but she certainly hadn't thought a guy would have to get good and wasted just to give her the time of day.

She kicked the wall- something she'd seen Ron do countless times when _he _wanted to beat Malfoy to a bloody pulp- and immediately regretted it. Ron, she thought, biting her lip and nursing her foot, was a bleeding idiot.

Unable to think of anything else to do, she pulled her broom from where it sat in the corner propped up against the wall and began polishing it. Scrubbing until the wooden handle was hot with friction, she stopped and admired her own reflecting on its glossy, spotless surface. It was, perhaps, the cleanest her broom had ever been. She then walked upstairs into Ron's room- he and Harry were outside with Hermione- and began polishing there too, starting with Harry's already immaculately kept Firebolt and then moving on to Ron's dingy and somewhat mud-caked Cleansweep. By the time she'd removed the last bit of dirt from her brother's broom, she'd worked off some of her anger.

She turned, about to go to back to her room and maybe find a book or something when she saw him standing in the doorway.

"Ginny, I-" He started, but Ginny interrupted with a loud, half-screaming, half-growling sound that for a moment made him forget that he was half a foot taller than her. She reminded him very much of an incredibly angry cat about to pounce upon a particularly annoying mouse, and he decided, quite wisely, to very quickly back out of the room.

With all of her anger completely returned, Ginny stormed up to her room, slammed the door and spent the next hour destroying another pillow.

* * *

He'd had never really taken Ginny to be the type to hold grudges. For one of the few times in his life, Draco was beginning to believe he'd been wrong. The first day of silence had not shocked him. In fact, had she _not_ been upset with him he would have been astounded. The second day, he was slightly aggravated, but not stunned. The third day, he was more than a little irritated, and just a bit surprised; he'd really expected she'd have been over it by then. By the fourth day, he was just annoyed. Honestly, how long did it take her to work through her anger or talk it out, or whatever other nonsense Gryffindors tried when they were angry? Count to ten and breath deep. Maybe she was just an extremely slow counter. 

One thing he knew for sure, if she was waiting for him to apologize, she could bloody well just up and die already, because it wasn't going to happen. At least not in that lifetime. With the sole exception of his father, she was the only person in the world he had ever sincerely apologized to and she had dismissed it. And it wasn't as if he hadn't been _trying_. Honestly, Draco thought he'd been very patient with her. Not once had he lost his temper. He'd tried to be considerate of her. It wasn't as if he'd dragged her off into some dark corner and tried to force himself on her. He'd even been trying to be nice to her brothers, which was, as far as he was concerned, the equivalent of being continually forced to listen to bad folk music. The kind with banjos and singers who had no comprehension of the phrase "on key". But even that she had seemed completely unappreciative of. Her absolute lack of gratitude for his sacrifices was almost sickening.

And boring.

The worst part of her unexpectedly enduring silence was the boredom that had inevitably set in. Without her company, the house was surprisingly quiet and uneventful. The entire Weasley clan was scattered about the house, but they didn't seek him out, nor did he approach them. If they noticed the rift between the Slytherin and their sister, they didn't say anything. In four days alone, he had finished all three of his new books and was now left with absolutely nothing to entertain himself with. He could, he supposed, go and bother the Weasel and Co., but that could hardly be expected to improve his situation with Ginny.

With an irritated sigh, he sat and began composing a letter to his mother. He'd already written her twice that week- something that he really shouldn't have been doing, considering how suspicious his father probably was already. Draco had written him the morning holiday began to tell him that he'd changed his mind and thought he'd stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. If his father's rage had calmed enough that he could think clearly, Draco was probably under a huge amount of scrutiny. Scrutiny that no doubt would end with his father having someone go and visit him on school grounds only to find he wasn't there. Draco supposed he'd have to tell his father he'd spent Christmas with a girlfriend or something. But, in the mean time, he'd have to trust Snape to ensure his mother's safety. He hated that dependence, but he knew the Potion Master would be much more effective than he could ever dream to be. So, taking a small bit of impish pleasure at the thought of annoying Snape with yet another letter to occupy his owl's time, he finished and sealed the note.

He cautiously crossed the room to where the black and white owl sat perched contentedly on his trunk. He reached out hesitantly to attach the parchment to the creature's leg. Earlier, he had tried to put the bird into a cage and it had nearly taken his fingers off. Almost murderously annoyed, he had referred back to the note that Snape had sent with the owl and found, scribbled on the back of it an advisory against putting the bird in a cage and instructions to simply leave the window open so the bird might come and go as he pleased. He'd made a rude hand gesture at the thing, and it had tried to bite him again. This time, however, it stuck its leg out and waited obligingly for Draco to attach his letter and departed.

Frustrated, bored, he'd pulled out his copy of _A Diviner's Companion: The Dictionary of Symbolism_. It was one of the books he'd bought four days previously at Flourish and Blotts. He was immeasurably glad that Ginny had not seen it. If she had and inquired after the book, he probably could have explained it away as a class project. Except, of course, Draco wasn't taking divination and she probably knew that. Still, he would have been able to come up with some plausible reason as to why he needed it. Despite that, he was still glad she hadn't noticed.

He didn't need to read it; he had read and reread the passages so many times that he could basically recite it by heart, but nonetheless, he flipped open the book. The stiff new spine had creased, opening immediately to the page he'd been looking for. Visions, he knew, as opposed to dreams, were normally more literal than figurative. And while there were parts he suspected that were completely literal, there were other parts that he could find no other justification for except that they had some symbolic meaning. In his boredom, he'd had plenty of time to review the contents of the Pensieve. Watching it through several more times, he'd noticed several more details he hadn't seen the first time- a stewing cauldron behind the hooded figure, the woman standing behind Snape and his mother in a nurse's attire- that he had no explanation for. But none of those things seemed to lend themselves to any greater symbolically significant deeper meaning. The only thing that he was sure must have been figurative was the castle and it had been the first thing he'd looked up. His results, however, were not as beneficial as he might have hoped. Sylvia's foretelling seemed to hold conflicting meanings. According to the book, castles often symbolized feelings of protection or security, neither of which seemed to apply. The book went on to say that dark castles usually represented failure or distress, while light castles most often signified success. The location of the fortress was also significant: forests or valleys implied feelings of entrapment, while castles on hills or clearings showed enlightenment or sovereignty. The castle he'd seen in the Pensieve had been dark _and_ on a hill. The only bit there that seemed to fit with the overall mood of the vision was distress, but if Ginny was currently in any distress, Draco couldn't see how. He couldn't find anything else that seemed symbolic. In something of a last attempt he'd even looked up the color green, but the most common meaning behind that was good luck, life, and prosperity, none of which seemed very relevant. Having found nothing else in the vision, he tried to recall every detail of the dreams to his mind to see, if perhaps, he could find something useful there. He looked up hood, then finding nothing on that, he tried mask, but that yielded no useful results. He looked up books, which was pointless, and lilacs, which turned out to be equally unconstructive. After nearly an hour of fruitless research, he closed the book and pushed it to the side.

He closed his eyes with the intention of taking a short nap, but found he couldn't banish thoughts of her dreams from his mind. For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to focus on the dreams. Really, they were pathetically Gryffindor. Like Potter, her brother, and every other Gryffindor before them, Ginny had inherited a deep-rooted ability to say the wrong thing at the wrong time. The Gryffindor motto might as well have been, when in the face of danger, call it ugly to ensure that it's _really_ mad before it kills you.

Things like, "I'll never join you!" and "I never want to see you again!" and ever other equally overused, trite, ending-in-an-exclamation-point phrases had been peppered throughout the dreams. Really, how clichéd could you get? But the fact that both Ginny and Tom spoke like characters from a poorly written romance novel didn't lessen the seriousness of the dreams. There was always the possibility that they were just nightmares, the feverish remembrance of bad memories. After all, she'd been a child when she'd first encountered Tom Riddle. But Draco couldn't bring himself to believe that. Especially now. There was just something so _wrong_ about the way it felt, something so very un-dreamlike about it all. Any doubts that perhaps he was simply overreacting had been diminished- though not entirely eradicated- with his trip to Sylvia. Something bad was going on and he was willing to bet that those dreams had something to do with it.

With something closely akin to guilt he pulled the small gold ring out of his pocket. The ring and the necklace were connected, and he knew that simply refusing to use either of them was, perhaps, not the best course of action, but he hadn't been able to bring himself to use it again. For just a moment he paused, sickened with himself. Sylvia had been right; he was a coward, and he admitted it. Self-preservation was the backbone of Slytherin philosophy, and it had never failed him before, but now, he was beginning to think something more might be required in this particular situation. He fingered the ring, knowing that eventually, he'd have to force himself to use the necklace again. But not today. He put the band back in his pocket and laid down on the bed, still fully dressed, and closed his eyes. He'd been doing a lot of sleeping lately; it was better than the boredom. But even as he lie there with his eyes closed, he felt a pressure he hadn't felt before, as if some large, hulking creature sat on its haunches somewhere, stalking him, waiting to make its move. There was a dark, ominous feeling of certainty that came with that image. Somewhere, Draco Malfoy felt, there was an hourglass, and for him, time was running out.

* * *

When Draco woke again, the last red and gold traces of sunlight were dancing on the curtains covering his window. It had been early afternoon when he'd gone to sleep, and he'd missed lunch and probably dinner. Only vaguely annoyed, he wondered if anyone had tried to come and get him. Ginny wouldn't have, and she was the only one besides, perhaps, Mrs. Weasley who would have thought to wake him up. He felt fairly sure that the middle-aged witch would have noticed his absence at two meals, which meant she had probably seen him and thought it was better to let him sleep. Really, he was relieved; the less meals he had to spend with the Weasleys the better. 

He'd woken up with the type of headache that followed too much sleep. Groggily, he rubbed his eyes and got out of the bed, trying to smooth his clothes before heading down stairs. From the kitchen, he grabbed two rolls and something to drink and started back up to his room. He paused when he heard Hermione, talking to Ron and Harry in a dreamy, almost wistful fashion.

"It's marvelous. I really admire Cassandra." Hermione said enthusiastically, waving a book in front of the boys' faces.

Ron's face screwed up in concentration. "Cassandra…but…isn't she Trelawney's great-great grandmother or something? I thought you said divination was bollocks?"

Hermione sighed like she'd said something that she now rather wished she hadn't. Draco leaned on the doorframe so he could now see the conversation as well.

"I did and it is. But there's a difference between true Seeing and divination. Anyone can use divination, or at least that half-baked bit of it Trelawney teaches. But real Seers- diviners- they actually have visions and see into the future. Simply using divination- even muggle 'fortune tellers' can do it to a degree." Hermione explained.

Harry looked confused. "But, Trelawney- she's had real prophesies."

"Yes." Hermione agreed. "But she had a bit of Cassandra's blood in her. And she can't really _see_ anything. She didn't even know she'd made a prediction."

Ron grinned. "Finally got something right and she missed it. Kind of pathetic, really."

"As usual, Granger, you left out one important detail." Draco said, and for the first time, the three looked up at him, startled. "Real Seers are purebloods."

* * *

Ginny liked babies. She always had. It was regrettable, considering that fact, that she was the youngest in her family. It was one of the many good things about having her family come to visit that she got to play with the baby. Babies, she found, had a sort of soothing effect on a person. They were soft, and sweet, and had that fresh baby smell to them, and it was impossible to stay mad when they were around. Which was good, because lately Ginny found there weren't many other people in the house she could keep her temper with. In the past four days alone, she rowed three times with Ron, twice with her mother, and at least once with Harry, Hermione, Percy and the twins. Her mother and her got into minor but nearly constant arguments basically since she had hit puberty, and her brothers happily wrote it off as part of her time of the month. But still, she had to do a better job at not losing her temper or people would begin to suspect something was wrong, and then they'd assume it was Draco- which of course it was- and then she'd have to go through all those questions again, and she was horrible at keeping up pretenses when she was angry, so inevitably her brothers would find out something was going on, and then…it was just so much simpler to sit in the rocking chair and avoid all those things. 

The only problem was Draco. He wasn't content to just let her be. He kept showing up everywhere, not saying anything, just waiting there like he expected her at any moment to start speaking to him again. And when he wasn't doing that, he was reading, or sleeping. He'd given all attempts to reconcile with her, which was disappointing because, pointless and ineffective as they may be, they had at least given her something to do. Now, she had just fallen into the quiet, boring pattern of quiet, uneventful days. But more than that, it was odd simply because she'd grown so accustomed to the Slytherin's presence that the lack of it was strangely disconcerting.

Ginny laid her cousin down in the crib and extinguished the lights. Opening the door, she was very nearly knocked to the ground as she and Charlie collided.

"Merlin, Charlie!" Ginny cried over Charlie's use of several more colorful words.

"Alright, Gin?" He asked, helping steady her.

"Fine." She answered as she straightened out and brushed herself off. "What are you doing?"

"Mum says dinner's ready."

"Oh, thanks, Charlie." She said and started down the stairs. He grabbed her arm, halting her before she'd even finished her step.

"Listen, Ginny, can we talk?"

Ginny frowned and gestured downstairs. "But dinner-"

"Malfoy's down there." Charlie said shortly. "You've been doing such a good job avoiding him, I'd hate to see you quit now."

Ginny bit her lip. "So you noticed."

"Of course I noticed." Charlie said, "I am the oldest, after all."

"You're not the oldest." She pointed out.

"Yes, well, I should be." He replied. Ginny went up the stairs leading to her room wordlessly and Charlie followed. Once she had firmly shut the door, she sat down on the bed and looked up at him, not knowing what to say. Charlie was twiddling his thumbs, and staring at the ground.

"So…" He said after a long pause.

Ginny stared at him and he let out a long, deep sigh. "What's going on Ginny?" She made a face and he hastened to add, "I know you said you can't tell me. But is it because you can't tell me or because you_ can't tell me_?"

"I _can't_ tell you, Charlie."

"I rather thought so. And you can't tell me why you can't tell me, can you?" He asked hopefully.

Ginny shook her head.

"Listen, Ginny, I know you can take care of yourself. But, I'm your brother and it's my job to worry. You'd let me know if you gotten in over your head, wouldn't you, Gin?"

She laughed at the earnest, serious expression on his face. "Charlie, nothing's wrong, I promise. Everyone's making such a big deal out of this, but I promise, after Christmas everything will go back to normal. In the mean time…Malfoy and I- he was just being himself."

"Arrogant, conceited, and stubborn?" Charlie said with a grin.

"Yeah, you forgot inconsiderate, sarcastic, and smug."

"I'll add those to the list. You're sure you're okay?"

"I'm sure."

He stood, patted her shoulder in a reassuring manner and turned to leave.

"Hey, Charlie?" He paused and turned back to her. "Do you think it's possible…for someone to change?"

"You mean Malfoy?" Her brother studied her a moment. "I suppose it's possible. I think you're good for him, Gin. Just be careful, okay?"

* * *

They hadn't met at their normal restaurant. Because of the holiday, Snape was only sporadically at the school and to travel all the way to Hogsmeade simply to meet was ridiculous. He had suggested the Leaky Cauldron, but honestly, the day Narcissa Black Malfoy stepped foot into a common pub was the day Voldemort played cricket with the Queen. So it was settled that they would meet an Italian restaurant in London. Muggle London. It was classy and clean, and neither of them had ever been there before. Despite that, Narcissa had preformed he usual glamour charms. Her hair, now a deep, chestnut brown, hung in tight curls around her shoulders. Honestly, it clashed horribly with her completion, but she didn't really care. She'd had a particularly hard time finding anything to wear, but had finally settled on a pretty, blue dress which she hoped wouldn't make her stand out too much amongst the muggles. 

She'd been waiting only a few minutes when Severus entered. The host hesitantly asked him how many would be in his party and Snape glared and then proceeded to walk past the man and, after a brief search, caught Narcissa's eye. The host did nothing to stop him; intimidating under the best of circumstances, Snape seemed positively murderous.

He nearly knocked his chair over as he pulled it out, and then threw himself into, still looking irate. "The whole ministry is in Lucius's pocket. Kingsley was put on suspension today, and all the ministry would say as to why was something about missing paper work." He hissed.

Narcissa gasped quietly. "Kingsley?" Kingsley was an auror with considerable seniority and a not insignificant amount of pull within the ministry. If Lucius had truly gotten rid of him, the Order had lost a huge asset. "Has he filed for an appeal?"

"Of course not." Snape said, in the same low voice. "If he files for an appeal, the ministry will start poking around, and no doubt find something even more incriminating. You know Lucius never leaves loose ends; he's probably had something placed in Shacklebolt's files or desk for weeks, just in case anyone started asking around."

The waiter had arrived at their table, carrying a platter of food, which he unloaded at their table, before taking the bottle of champagne he'd been holding and pouring it carefully into the two ornate wineglasses. He replaced each glass with a flourish. "Is there anything I can get you?"

"No thank you." Narcissa said. The waiter left and she gracefully placed the cloth napkin in her lap. "I took the liberty of ordering for you. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not."

"How is he, Severus?"

"Draco is fine."

She let out a deep sigh of relief. "I'm sorry to be so bothersome to you, but I get so worried about him. I haven't _gotten a single letter_ from him this _month_. I just hate not knowing where he is. I'll be so glad when this whole holiday is over and I can be sure he's back and safe at Hogwarts."

"He'll be fine, Narcissa." Snape said. He never bothered to try and sound comforting, instead he settled for a very assured, matter of fact tone.

"Of course he will." She said, sounding very distant. "He's a Malfoy after all."

There was a long pause, which she interrupted a moment later with the rather unexpected remark of, "He wasn't always like this. Lucius…when we first got married…he-"

"We all make mistakes. There was no way you could have known what Lucius would turn out like."

"How consoling you sound, Severus." She was intently studying her napkin. "Don't lie. Of course I should have known, and then I should have left as soon as I realized. But Draco was so small then. Who knows what Lucius would have done." She looked up at him suddenly. "I thought I was protecting him."

Snape nodded. "I know."

"Don't think I'm any better than I am. I don't disagree with what their doing. I could care less about the muggleborns and their families. I just wanted to protect him."

Hesitantly, Snape touched her hand. "You _have_, Narcissa. Draco is fine."

"And Molly? Molly Weasley?"

"She's fine too. But-"

The waiter approached their table again. "Do you need anything?" He asked. "Dessert perhaps?"

"No thank you." Narcissa said, and then once he'd gone, "Severus, I just don't understand _why_ they'd go after her of all people."

Snape shifted uncomfortably. "Perhaps they are simply trying to bait Potter. She has been a mother figure to him for the past several years. Or they know that being his best friends mother Potter will feel obligated to go after her. Or…are you-what I mean is- can you be absolutely _sure _they said Molly Weasley?"

"Of course." Narcissa said.

"You-you actually heard them say that name?"

"Yes." Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "What's going on?"

"Nothing." He said standing and brushing himself off. "I have to be going. Don't worry about, Draco."

* * *

Sorry about any errors, but like I said, I'm a really, really, REALLY, bad proofreader. 

Thanks so much to my reviewers. I LLlllOOooooOOOOvvvvVVVEEEEeeee you. Which is so much better than just loving you, because it has capital letters.

Please review! They make me write faster.

(And by the way, just because I don't want anyone thinking it's a continuity(err...I can't spell, don't stone me) error (of which there are many, this just doesn't happen to be one of them) if something Narcissa said to Snape doesn't doesn't line up with something earlier in the chapter, there's a reason for that.)

P.S. Armadillos (will someday conquer the world)


	36. Chapter Thirty Six

Uggg...Because I'm tired and in desperate need of sleep, FF decided to be a pain in the butt and not upload right. I think I finally got it all sorted, but man was it a nightmare trying to post this chapter. And then, I couldn't get the default line to work either, so you'll have to deal with hyphens. Sorry. But, at least I updated fairly quickly. Woot! (pats back) Anyway, thanks for yet again wasting your time on me. And thanks to all of my darling reviewers. You're all absolute dolls.

Disclaimer: No profit is being made from this fanfiction. Everything you recognize belongs to the wonderful J. K. Rowling and not to me. Must you on crushing my dreams?

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"Would someone please pass me the jam?" He asked politely, and Ginny glared. There wasn't a single thing on his plate that could possibly require jam, so the only reason he could be asking was to get on her nerves. And he'd succeeded.

_Idiots_, Draco thought, looking around at the other occupants at the table. The Golden Trio was happily chatting away with Bill, and Percy sat sulkily at one end of the table, glaring at his doubles, and the rest of what Draco had begun to term "the other Weasleys" were talking to Mrs. Weasley about boring, mundane things. Not a single one of them had noticed how upset Ginny was. _Typical_, he thought, that she should get so ignored. _Typical Gryffindor behavior to ignore the only other semi-interesting one in the room._ They were probably just intimidated by the fact that she seemed to have all her chromosomes.

Very politely, and in a slightly elevated voice, he asked again for the jam. She would have continued to happily ignore him, except her mother had now heard. "Ginny Weasley, where are your manners?" She demanded, and with a frustrated sigh, Ginny passed the jam.

Draco smiled very pleasantly at her, and she glared in response.

"May I be excused?" Without waiting for a response, she stood and left the table.

"You'll have to excuse her, dear." Mrs. Weasley said kindly. "Ginny's not much of a morning person. What were we talking about, May?"

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"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked, looking concerned.

"I'm fine." He said, but he didn't look fine. She could tell from the dark rings around his eyes that he hadn't been sleeping well, and this was the third time that day alone that she'd caught him rubbing his head.

"Are you sure? Is it your scar?"

He nodded.

"Harry, I really think you should tell someone about this. You've been getting headaches an awful lot lately." She said, putting a hand on his shoulder and biting her lip.

"Leave his alone, Hermione." Ron said. "He's already got my mum coddling him. He doesn't need you as well."

"But, Harry what if-?"

"Oh, come off it Hermione. It's not as if You-Know-Who is just going to storm into the Burrow with the whole Order surrounding him."

The girl bit her lip again. "Well maybe, but do promise me you'll tell me if anything new happens, won't you?"

"Didn't you have a question for Snape about your potions homework?" Ron asked.

"Oh is he leaving?" Hermione asked, rushing out of the room.

"She may have a point, Harry." Ron said, once she was safely out of earshot.

"But you just-"

"Oh, of course she's right." He said, waving a hand dismissively. "She's always right. But she doesn't need to know that, now does she?"

Harry smiled and conceded. "Yes, I know. I just don't want to upset anyone's Christmas.

Ron sat down on the bed, frowned, and pulled something from out beneath him. " I hate to say it, but you should probably talk to someone before then. Dumbledore, maybe."

"No." Harry said fervently. "Dumbledore's got enough on his plate."

"Sirius then." Ron suggested, examining the something he'd sat on. It was a chocolate frog, which he unwrapped and popped in his mouth. "Listen," he said, in what he no doubt thought was a conspirator's whisper. The effect was somewhat lessened, however, by the bits of chocolate in his mouth. "There's a reason Malfoy's here. It's no coincidence that he magically shows up and then your scar just starts hurting all of the sudden."

"But Ginny-"

"Ginny's a bit like Hagrid." He said, sounding weary. "She take in the foulest, most vile, horrible creatures and say they're just misunderstood."

Hermione had returned, holding a roll of parchment and looking crestfallen. "He's already gone. I haven't got a clue how he disappeared so quickly."

"Oh well, you've still got loads of time to do it."

Hermione shook her head nervously. "I haven't got loads of time, Ronald. I'd like to have it all done before Christmas so I can enjoy the rest of my holiday without worrying. Potions is the last subject I've to do."

"Christmas, that's five days away yet!" Ron cried.

Hermione frowned. "Four, Ronald! And that's counting today. Really, I can't see how you pass any of your classes."

"My charm, I suppose."

"Oh, Ron." She reprimanded, slapping him gently on the shoulder. She sounded annoyed and tired. And she was biting her lip in the way she did when she had something very important to say and was avoiding saying it.

"Just spit it out, Hermione." Ron said.

"It's just- Harry- have you given any thought to what exactly you're going to do when you encounter You-Know-Who?"

"Hermione!" Ron cried.

"Well, honestly, don't get angry with me. It's a perfectly reasonable question."

"I- I don't know." Harry said. Whenever he'd come face to face with Voldemort in the past, he'd never had to think about what he was going to do. He didn't plan these things. "It's not just something I can study up on, Hermione. It's not an exam."

"Oh I know, Harry." She said quickly, biting her lip again, and Harry felt bad for snapping at her. "I just mean, it never hurts to be prepared, does it?"

"Hermione, Harry is prepared. He's stopped You-Know-Who four times already." Ron said.

"But that time with Quirrell- that was just luck." Harry said, filling with dread. Really, Hermione was right. The only assurance he had that should Voldemort attack he would be able to defeat him was the fact that he had before. And he hadn't really _done _anything those times. "And the night my parents died-that wasn't me either. As for the graveyard- if it hadn't been for my wand…and now that Voldemort can touch me-"

"Don't say his name." Ron hissed, looking around as if to make sure no one had heard.

"-I've really got no protection."

"Harry, I didn't mean it like that." Hermione said, horrified. "I just meant- maybe we should practice some stuff over the holiday. Or-or get the D.A. running again."

"The D.A. was great and all, but there's no way that stuff's going to help defeat Voldemort." Ron made a strangled sound and Harry ignored him. "I won't be able to face him with a Patronus and _Expelliarmus_."

"Harry-" Hermione said slowly. "What do you mean?"

"If I'm going to face him, I might as well level the playing field. If he can use Un-"

"Harry!" She cried sharply. "You can't use Unforgivables!"

"Voldemort's not going to hold back and if I can't-"

Hermione, very sorry she'd brought the topic up, looked at Ron for support, but he was very carefully studying his shoes. "I'm not talking about the morality of it." She said, "Although it _is_ wrong. I just mean you _can't _use them. Unforgivables are very powerful, advanced, dark magic. The Killing Curse must be at least twelve times as hard as a Patronus and it took you _weeks_ to master that. And besides, Harry, for Dark Arts to work you have to _really_ want to hurt who you're cursing, and you don't want that." The last part had come out sounding a bit more like a question than Hermione would have liked.

Harry didn't reply, but he didn't need to; they all knew what he was thinking.

_I do, _his eyes said, _I do if it will make this all just end._

_------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

Ginny sat, staring out the window, one hand absently playing with her hair. He felt almost ashamed watching her, and he couldn't really explain why; he wasn't doing anything wrong. Once, he'd cleared his throat, half hoping she would turn around and notice him, but she was either too deep in thought to notice or hadn't heard him at all. The cold breeze rushed in through the open window, tousling her hair, and Draco was almost overcome by the mad urge to rake his fingers through her long mane…He let out a low moan, and turned around and headed back up the stairs. He lay down on the bed and tried to occupy his mind with very dull, non-redheaded things. Flobberworms came to mind, but really, who wanted to spend their evening thinking about great, ugly worms.

From his spot on the bed, he could just barely see the bit of ground outside the treeline where he and Ginny had had a snowball fight just days before.

He rolled over, and closed his eyes. It was only seven o'clock, but really, what else was there to do?

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_Ginny was standing in what looked like a girl's lavatory. She wasn't facing him, but there was no mistaking her long, vibrant hair. For a moment, nothing seemed amiss but then, he noticed that her shoulders were heaving up and down in great, dry sobs. He took a step forward and felt the awkward resistance of water around his ankles and looked down to see that the floor had been flooded nearly a foot high. It all poured from the sink in front of her, an unbelievable amount of water for a single faucet. _

"_Ginny?" He asked, putting a hand on her shoulder and spinning her around. She looked up at him, startled, holding both hands out in front of her. There were wet trails across her cheeks where she had been crying._

"_It won't come off." She said in a low, dead sort of voice. The kind of voice that came once the point of despair had been pasted and there was nothing left but acceptance. "I've tried and I've tried and I can't wash it off."_

"_Ginny, there's nothing there." He said, looking at her small, pale hands. He reached around her and turned the sink's handle, but the water continued to flow freely._

"_He told me it wouldn't come off. I didn't understand though." She abruptly looked up at him, horrified, as if she was realizing something for the very first time. "I've done something awful, and it won't come off."_

_And, then, suddenly, she turned back around and plunged her hands into the water, rubbing them together so forcefully it looked painful. _

_Draco grabbed her wrists, forcing her hands out of the sink. Even after they'd left the water, she continued scrubbing. "Look at me, Ginny." He said, making her turn around to face him. "Ginny, there's nothing there."_

_But instead of being comforted, fresh tears streamed down her face and she thrust her hands out in front of her to show him. The small arms before him were stained almost to the elbow in thick, black ink. _

"_It won't come off." She said, sobbing now. And suddenly there was a faint, bitter, metallic, smell and a deep bloom of red blossomed at the center of each palm, running down her arms. He cringed as the warm liquid touched his fingers._

"_Whose blood is this?" He demanded, but she was crying to heavily now to hear him. "Ginny, whose blood is this?"_

"_I've done something terrible, Tom. And now it won't come off."_

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Draco woke in a cold sweat, and he knew that a floor below, Ginny was now awake too. He tried to stand, but his sheets were so twisted around his legs that he found it difficult. Once he'd untangled himself, he went directly to the window, throwing it open and letting the cold air clear his mind.

He was both comforted and annoyed, which he decided was probably an inappropriate reaction to have at the time. But this dream had lacked the distinct wrongness of the others, and that was reassuring. It was just a nightmare and nightmares he could deal with; everyone, after all, had nightmares.

The fact that worried him, however, was that this time he hadn't meant to enter her dreams. When Mr. Borgin sold Draco the necklace and ring, he'd, of course, warned that this might happen. The fact that both items were run partially through spells but mostly through emotions- well he didn't think it would be a problem. But now, he was concerned. If her dreams had leaked into his, it was definitely possible this worked in reverse. How many times had she been audience to his own dreams?

Draco took the ring from where it sat on the bed stand and stared at it, as though it might answer his question. Staring at it, Sylvia's words came rushing back: _You have complete and absolute control over this girl, and what have you done?_

His fist tightened around the ring, and he took a deep fortifying breath to strengthen his resolve. He stepped through the door and made it carefully down the first flight of stairs in the dark. He paused a moment at the bottom in front of Ginny's room and light flooded out through the crack beneath the door. He turned, still clutching the ring, and headed downstairs.

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Ginny sat on her bed, breathing heavily. She'd wanted to go and soak in the cold water for a while, but that required crossing the hall. Even from where she sat she could see the inky blackness slinking under the door jam. In here, in the light, she was safe, but should wander out into the darkness, she knew it would rip at her, tear her apart, consume her.

_Don't be stupid Ginny. There's nothing out there._

She forced her legs to uncoil and venture over the edge of the bed.

_Get on with it!_ She ordered her self, and she forced her feet down to meet the floor and stood. She took one slow step toward the door and then another.

Suddenly, she stopped. There was a noise like footsteps. Almost inhumanly still, she stood, holding her breath, because she knew that even moving so much as to exhale would unravel her. The footsteps stopped right in front of her door and Ginny shut her eyes tightly, willing the thing to go away. An eternity passed, and when it was over, the footsteps resumed, growing more distant as they moved away.

Once she could hear nothing, she hazarded a breath. The blood pounded in her ears, and her heart heaved in convulsed, sporadic beats.

"There's nothing out there, Ginny." She said aloud. "There never was. You imagined it."

And she knew she _had _imagined it. The Burrow was very old, and host to all the creaks and twangs of an old house. She had probably just heard the wind knocking at the shutters, or the dishes downstairs settling in the sink, or any number of other things.

Even so, it was another ten minutes before she could force herself to move. All courage abandoned, she planned only to return to her bed; she wouldn't sleep, but there at least she would feel safe. She turned hesitantly around, and took a cautious step toward the bed.

She could still feel her heart pounding, only now the feeling was painful, as if each time it expanded it beat against her chest, fighting to break it's way through her ribs. She gasped in pain, as the feeling suddenly became hot. Instinctively she threw her hand to her breast, and then, only then did she realize the source of her pain was not her own beating heart, but the necklace.

It had been dormant for so long she had almost forgotten it's presence expect in a vague, formless kind of way. It frequently grew warm, especially at night, but that too had blurred into normality and she'd almost forgotten this as well. But this, this was a new pain, on a level even higher than that she had felt the day Draco had called her to the restaurant.

She focused on this new pain, not resisting, letting it drive her through the door and into the darkness that lay beyond. An invisible hook dug itself deeply into her chest, pulling at her, tugging her down the stairs. She allowed herself to be towed through the living room and to the kitchen, where she could see had been illuminated. The hook pulled her into the door and the vanished, and the pain was immediately swept away, as if it had not been there at all.

And there stoop Draco Malfoy, clad in silk pajamas and holding two mugs.

"Hot chocolate?" He offered.

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Er...not entirely too fond of this chapter because Harry's really emo and kinda random and er...yeah. But still, there were a few important bits thrown in throughout this chapter that I couldn't work in any other way so forgive me my emoness. And besides that, this is really the second chapter in a row with basically no Draco-Ginny interaction at all, but again, I needed it to lead into the next chapter which will be incredible fun to write and that's all the information you'll get from me. I do however, really love the dream. I wrote it in like, the dead of night and kinda freaked myself out. A lot.

As always, thanks SOOOOOOOO MUCH to everyone who reviewed last chapter.

And a special thanks to my armodillo friends, who sit on thrones in my head, eat pie, and make snarky comments.


	37. Chapter Thirty Seven

(Deathly pale hand bursts through the dirt) Mawhahaha! I've returned from the dead! And here you thought you'd gotten rid of me for good. Alas, my dear friends, that is not the case. Swim team is FINALLY over and I'll be getting home a whole THREE hours earlier. So, hopefully, no more freakishly long hiatuses between chappies(er...is that the plural of hiatus? Does hiatus even have a plural? Did Adam and Eve have belly buttons? These are the questions that keep me awake at night.) I really would have gotten this chapter out more quickly (even despite swimming) except that I just couldn't be happy with it. I've like nine versions of this, and I'm still not entirely happy with it, but oh well. Thanks you all for your patience! (And reviews. Reviews are yummy)

Disclaimer: I own nothing except a collector's eddition of a Gumby and Pokey lunch box. No you may not have it.

* * *

Then, she did the last thing he would have expected her to do: with a look of set determination, she put her small hands on his chest, and kissed him. Such was his surprise that he only vaguely noticed when the two mugs he'd been holding crashed to the ground. Before he had even begun to comprehend what was happening, she had moved away and was wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her flannel nightshirt.

"What do you thing you're doing? Are you out of bloody mind?"

"Evening the score."

"What?" He blinked. "_What_?"

"See, I've been thinking it over, Malfoy, and you're not that nice to _anyone_. You have to have some reason for trying to get in my good graces. You're trying to trick me, or blackmail me or-"

"Blackmail you?" He choked out, caught between absolute surprise and amusement.

"And now you can't." She added with a note of triumph, pretending she hadn't heard him. "I took away your advantage."

Ginny was the picture of righteous anger, her chin held high and defiant, her chest heaving, Draco stared for a long time studying her and tried for to follow the logic she had used to arrive at this insanely absurd conclusion.

"Well if that's the way you figure, I believe I kissed you twice." He finally said, allowing the trace of a smirk onto his face.

"Don't you _dare_ try to be funny right now! _Don't you _dare." She hissed furiously.

"Well, honestly, since the conversation had been so serious up until now." He snapped. "You thought I was going to _blackmail_ you? That's the most irrational thing I've ever heard in my life. I mean, how does that even make _sense_?"

She slapped him.

"Have you gone bloody _mad_?" He demanded, one hand nursing his stinging cheek. "That _hurt_."

"You know what else hurts? Your _ruddy necklace_ dragging me down here in the middle of the night!" She half-screamed it, and with one hand she had grasped its chain and was waving it about wildly in front of her.

"It hurts?" He asked with the kind of casual interest you might use when inquiring about the weather.

"Yes it hurts." She hissed. "Have you even been on the rack? No? Well me neither, however any curiosity I might have had- yeah, gone. I think I can pretty well imagine it now, thanks."

"Well guess what _I_ think hurts. You ignoring me for a week." He said sounding irritated.

"Are you serious?" She demanded. "Are you seriously comparing my pain to being ignored for a few days?"

"Yes." He answered defensively.

"And did it cause you severe, physical harm?"

"Well, no." He admitted grudgingly, running a hand through his hair. "But it was _incredibly_ annoying."

"Well I'm sorry I've been such an inconvenience!" She cried.

This wasn't going as well as he might have hoped. Or rather, it was going exactly as he might have expected, which was precisely why it was so horrible.

She turned to leave and Draco saw this was his last chance. He caught her hand. "Would you stop that."

"Why did you kiss me, Malfoy?" She half-yelled.

"Other than my evil plot to blackmail you, you mean?" He smirked. Then, sobering slightly and smiling, he added, "Merlin, Weasley. Do I have to spell it out for you? I lik-"

But he didn't get a chance to finish. "Are you going to date me?" She asked sharply.

"What?" He asked, and, again, was shocked.

"You don't get to kiss me unless you are going to date me."

And for a moment the absurdity of it was so great he wanted to scream.

"You don't know anything!" He almost yelled, but in that moment she was cold and hard, and looking at her then he knew she did.

She understood exactly what she was doing. She was, very consciously asking him to give up everything. His father would disown him, if not worse. And no Slytherin would dare openly cross a Malfoy- even a disgraced one- but it would be an uphill battle of subtly cutting remarks and undermining, a slow war of attrition to be fought on his territory.

That she thought she was in any position to _demand _anything of him was ridiculous, infuriating. Or that she would even think to do it. To order him to give up what he cared for was so unlike her. But at the same time it was a very Slytherin thing of her to do, and he found himself grudgingly respecting her for it.

"I don't know, Ginny." He said, assuming what he hoped was a pained expression. He shook his head and ran a hand through his platinum locks. This too wasn't true, he knew he would never date her; there was simply too much at stake to throw it all away for a silly Gryffindor bint. But he couldn't just say no and lose any remnant of a chance he had at her, and he wouldn't just flat-out lie to her, so he said, "I would have to risk a lot. If I were to date you-"

"Oh I couldn't date you." She said simply, as if she had said something so obvious that even the most remedial first yeah should have figured it out.

"What?" He demanded and was sure for an instant he would be unable to keep himself from throttling her.

"I couldn't _date_ you, I don't even _know _you!" She exclaimed.

For a moment, he could do nothing but silently gnash his teeth together. "Then get to know me." He finally ground out, and at once the anger in her expression melted away and was replaced by pure shock.

"What?"

"_Get. To. Know. Me._" He said, very slowly.

She asked, "How?" every inch of her incredulous.

"Ask me anything."

"_What_?"

"Fine." He said shrugging. "It was just a suggestion. If you don't want to…"

"No!" She nearly yelled. "No! It's just….just ask you? Just like that?"

"Or we could play a drinking game…"

"I think you've done enough of that already, actually." She said sharply, but he could see she was no longer angry with him. She probably would be later, but for now it was forgotten in favor of her curiosity. Thinking, she sunk to the floor and began gathering the shattered pieces of the glasses he had dropped.

"I really did want that hot chocolate." He said reproachfully, and she didn't respond. Best case scenario, really. Then, after a pause, he added, "Stop that. You'll cut yourself."

"But if I don't pick it up, they'll wonder who did it." She said crossly, in a tone that went on to suggest that the task would be much easier were he to help.

"You have twelve brothers, blame one of them." He said, and brushed past her and disappeared through the door.

"Malfoy!" She called, exasperated, but there was no response. With a frustrated moan, she stood, wiped her hands up and followed.

"I have six brothers, actually."

"Well that's kind of irrelevant, isn't it?" He asked casually.

"No." She coldly replied. She sat opposite him, looking distant. It was obvious she was considering his proposal, which was not what he wanted at all. Nothing good could come of her over-thinking this. For just a moment, he was aware of what absurd lengths he was going to, to make this girl like him. But then again, he reminded himself, Malfoy's never lose.

"It's not as though anyone could tell them apart, anyway. Your parents really only needed one, after that the rest just redundant." He was very conscious of the line he was trodding all over. He gulped, and with one, great, vindictive step, he crossed it. "And I use the word _need _very loosely. Besides, it's not as if they could afford it."

"Oh, right, Malfoy, like you have any room to talk. Because your family is _so _perfect." She snarled, with a viciousness he'd never heard her use before, "Why don't you tell me about that, if you're so keen on sharing?"

He almost smiled. _This _was what he needed. All he had to do now was make up a few lines, make her think he'd had such a poor, deprived childhood, and he'd be home free. She'd want to help- to _fix_- him.

"My family _is _perfect." He said, flawlessly imitating a tone of haughty defensiveness. "My father is the most respected man in the wizarding world. And Mother is wonderful. Who do you think sends me all those sweets when I'm at school? And the constant letters? Embarrassing really, but I think she always wanted more children. She gets lonely, I'd imagine, all alone in the Manner, with Father always away on business." He was balancing on a very thin line. She had, by now, absorbed that he couldn't stand Lucius, and if he played it up too much, she would realize he was lying. However, Ginny was soft, and what she really needed- wanted- to hear was that he was really a sweet, upstanding kind of bloke who'd simply not been hugged enough. It was easiest that way. "He was always away when I was young. He was very involved though. He kept in constant communication with Snape to make sure I was keeping up on my school work and 'running with the right crowd.'" He had let a touch of bitterness lace his voice, and he paused now for dramatic effect. "I really hated Granger then. You wouldn't believe the crap my father gave me about a mudblood being ahead of me in classes."

He saw her cringe slightly, and suddenly he too was on edge. That was just a bit too close to the truth for his liking. He paused, not quite sure how to continue.

"Tell me more about you're mother." She ordered, surprising him.

"She's very pretty, of course. Clever, as well. She was head girl when she was at Hogwarts." She noted with surprise the pride in his tone. "She's actually younger than my father. Snape's age."

"How'd they meet, then?"

"At a party, or function, I suppose. They got married very quickly, Mother's parents were thrilled with the match." He said casually. "Quite a few Blacks have married muggles through the years. I think they would have married her off to Hagrid if he were a pure blood." Ginny frowned, but didn't say anything. "Tell me about you're family."

"Me?" Ginny asked, surprised.

Draco smirked. "Communication is a two-way road, Ginny-darling."

"What do you want to know?" She asked, raising one eyebrow suspiciously.

"Tell me about you're brothers. Do you get along?"

"Most of the time. We bicker quite a bit, but mostly that's just to drive Mum mad. And it's impossible to do anything just by your own. Anyway you turn there's another one. But they take care of me; it's nice."

"I always wanted a brother." He said.

"_Really_?" She asked. She wouldn't have thought that at all.

"There's too much pressure being an only child. You have to live up to all the expectations of both parents. At least with brothers, there's someone to help bear the burden."

"Yes, but you don't have anyone to be compared to." She answered. "By the time I was even _born_ Bill had graduated Head Boy and Charlie was the best seeker Hogwarts had seen in years. And the twins get in trouble, sure, but they still had great marks in school and their business is doing excellent. Everyone expects something great of me."

"I'd still trade with you, any road." He said, then frowned and revised. "Well, not you _specifically_, because honestly, I can't stand you're brothers."

She frowned back at him. "I do seem to recall you saying something about having so many children being unseemly."

"I never said that." He objected.

"No, that was me paraphrasing. I believe you're actual words were 'I know weasels are known for having large litters, but at least nature kills some of _those_ off.'"

"Ahh, yes, back when I was young and-"

"An absolute wanker?" Ginny supplied.

"Well, I was going to say 'and didn't understand how meaningful understating can be when it comes to the subtle art of sarcasm', but as you're answer is less likely to get me hit, we'll go with that. Yes, an absolute wanker." He tried to gauge her reaction, but couldn't tell whether she was amused or not. "And what about you? Would you trade?"

"No." Ginny said confidently.

"I thought not." He agreed.

"Malfoy?" She said after a moment of silence. "That day we met at the restaurant, you said that you were being followed."

"Yes." He said. "I remember."

"Who was following you?"

"Crabbe and Goyle, I think. I don't really recall."

Frustrated, she was about to tell him that wasn't what she meant, when something occurred to her. "Senior? Crabbe and Goyle Senior?"

He nodded.

"Why? Why would they be following you?"

"See, if there's one thing the Dark Lord's got, it's a healthy sense of paranoia. Death Eater's children have been fed You-Know-Who's secrets since the cradle – nothing important, you understand, just enough propaganda to win them over, but it's enough that he's nervous. He's just suddenly realized there's a good possibility one of them will turn coats."

"So he has you followed?"

"Not regularly. Not at school. Just…around sometimes, to make sure we're not joining up the wrong sort of people." He said and grinned.

"Me." Ginny said, sounding pleased.

He nodded. "I'm just glad they didn't recognize you." She gave him a questioning look. "Trust me, I'd have heard about it by now if they had. I'm willing to bet they weren't even looking for me that day. They were probably checking up on Sylvia."

"She's a Death Eater, then?" Ginny said, not particularly caring that she sounded harsh.

"No." Draco answered firmly.

"What is she to you?" She really couldn't keep the question from escaping her lips.

"Something like my second cousin several times removed."

Ginny glared. "That's not exactly what I meant."

"What did you mean then?"

"You have two pictures by your bed. One of your mother, and one of her. There has to be a reason."

"Her _and_ Blaise." He corrected.

"Did you date her?"

"Yes." He answered. "For a while." His tone made it very clear he was through discussing that particular topic. She wanted to ask more, but she had so many other questions, and she knew if she pushed now, he'd not say anymore. Instead, she switched tactics.

"Tell me about Snape." She commanded.

"What about him?"

"You two seem…" She struggled for the right word, "close."

Draco smiled. "He's my godfather actually. He and my mother went to school together, they were good friends."

"_Really_?" Ginny asked, shocked. It seemed so oddly human. "I can't picture Snape as a boy. In fact, I really can't picture him anywhere but school. And seeing him _here_ is _incredibly _unnerving."

"I don't even think Snape can picture himself anywhere else. I stayed with him this summer and every morning he woke up with this kind of dazed look like he couldn't quite figure out where he was or what he was doing there."

"You stayed at his _house_?" She sounded appalled.

Nodding, Draco said, "He was teaching me potions. That's how I ended up in Magical Healing. He thought it would be good extra practice."

"You've no interest in Healing, then?"

"I wouldn't say that. It's very useful to know, but I'd not make a career of it."

Which she should have known, because, really, _Draco Malfoy_ as a _Healer_? Not only would he be required to be nice to people, he'd be expected to handle various bodily fluids. She almost laughed at the thought.

"And you?" He asked, "You're going to be a Healer?"

Ginny nodded. "That's the plan, anyways."

Then, quite against her will, she did something horrible; she yawned. Draco looked at his wristwatch- expensive, gold, and new. "It's late. You should go to bed."

"No." She said firmly.

"Yes." He said equally firm.

"Not until I'm through." She stated bluntly, arms crossed. If she went to bed now, she'd never get the rest of her questions answered.

Slyly, Draco slipped his hand in his pocket and grasped the ring.

"Ow!" Ginny cried, grabbing the necklace around her neck. "Now that's not fair!"

He smirked. "Life rarely is." Then, he grew more serious, and had she not known any better she would have said his tone was almost one of concern as he asked, "Does that really hurt?"

"Not that really. The other thing- the pull-y thing does. But that still doesn't change the fact that I'm not going upstairs."

"How about this- if you go sleep now, I promise you twenty more answers."

"Twenty?"

He nodded.

"About anything?"

He seemed to consider this for a moment, and then shrugging said, "Within reason."

"And all I have to do is be a good little girl now and go to bed?" She said, skeptically.

"And answer twenty of my questions. En eye for an eye, love."

She stuck out her hand. "Don't dare shake unless you mean it."

He grinned, white teeth shining in the dim light, and took her hand. Hesitantly, she smiled back and allowed him to help pull her off the couch. She followed him quietly up the stairs. He stopped in front of her door.

"Good night, Weasley."

"Good night, Malfoy. Twenty questions, remember."

"Wouldn't dream of forgetting."

He waited outside a moment, until the light under the door vanished, and then, with a yawn, went upstairs.

* * *

Ginny didn't think she'd be able to sleep, but she did, and when she woke the next morning, she felt much more relaxed than she had the whole past week. For a moment she simply lied there, enjoying the morning. It was bright and clear, and the sunlight streaming through her window promised a pretty day. The house was warm and smelled of cinnamon. It was a nice day to sleep in.

Slowly, she got out of bed not bothering to change out of her pajamas and went downstairs.

Draco wasn't there.

She sat down, amidst the clamor of breakfast, and ate quickly. Really, she thought with a sinking heart, she should have known as much. He was a Malfoy after all. He would obviously find some way to wriggle out of their agreement. No doubt he'd say her questions were unreasonable. Or maybe just talk around them. Possibly, he'd ignore her all together. Cursing herself for being so naïve, Ginny finished eating quickly and with much undeserved hostility toward her eggs, and stood.

"Where are you headed off to in such a hurry?"

"No where, Mum."

"Don't you dare go wake him up." Mrs. Weasley warned, looking up from her dish washing. She was waving a sponge threatening in Ginny's direction.

"Who?"

"You know very well who. If our guest wants to sleep in I certainly won't have you up there disturbing him."

"But Mum, I-"

"I mean it, Ginny."

"Yes ma'am." She said, defeated.

Ginny retreated to her bedroom and sat curled up the bed entirely ready to pounce upon him the first moment she heard any noise from upstairs.

There was a knock at her door, and for a moment, her heart skipped a beat, then, "Ginny?"

It was Hermione.

"Come in." She called.

"Hey, Gin, do you mind if we talk?"

"Sure." Ginny said, feeling vaguely guilty she hadn't been spending more time with Hermione.

Because of all the extra bodies, her parent had bought a temporary Enlargement charm, which created rooms to accommodate their guests. They'd never bought one before (they cost more than an entire set of school books) but with so many people crammed into one space there'd have been no amount of sharing that would have allowed them all to fit. It was the first holiday in years Ginny had had a room to herself.

Hermione, looking distracted, took a seat on the bed next to Ginny. For a long time, she didn't say anything. Ginny, who was, despite her best efforts, having a difficult time focusing on the older Gryffindor, returned to listening for Malfoy.

"So, how have you and Ron been doing?" Ginny asked politely, when she could no longer stand the silence. She thought she heard a door open upstairs.

"Ron and you." Hermione corrected, absentmindedly, twirling a bit of hair around her finger. Then, realizing she hadn't answered the question, added. "Fine."

"So…" Ginny said. There weren't any footsteps coming down the stairs but she was sure the creak had come from the upstairs bedroom.

"He told me he loved me." Hermione said suddenly.

For a moment, the thought didn't register. Then, after only a moment's hesitation, the redhead forgot about the door and beamed at the girl sitting next to her. "That's great Hermione!"

"He actually sort of yelled it at me. We were fighting."

"And what did you say?"

Hermione remained suspiciously silent. She looked up at Ginny and bit her lip.

"Oh, no, Hermione. What did you say?"

"Well, I didn't say anything."

"Oh, Merlin, Hermione. You didn't say anything? You just stood there?"

Hermione nodded. "I feel awful. Poor Ron looked crushed, but I didn't know what to say, I-"

"How about, I don't know, 'Gee, thanks, Ron. I love you too?'"

"But you can't just _say_ it, Ginny. You have to _mean _it."

"Hermione, have you gone spare? You've loved Ron since third year, maybe even before."

"It's not that easy. You don't just fall in love with a person. It takes time and commitment. I don't want to be _that_ type of girl. The one who falls in love with every other boy she meets."

"It's been four years coming. I doubt anyone's going to accuse you of being flighty."

"But what if something happens and it doesn't work out? Saying you love a person isn't something you can just take back. When I tell someone I love them, I want to know it's true. I certainly _care_ about Ron, but I haven't even considered _loving _him. I haven't made a thought about any of the repercussions, why I haven't even made a pro and con list. I'm just not ready-"

"You can't _analyze_ it, Hermione. Do you love him?"

Hermione hesitated and bit her lip. "Yes."

"Then tell him."

The older girl beamed and nodded. "I will. Thank you, Ginny. There was one other thing…"

"Yes?"

She paused, as if she were groping for the right words. "Are you and Malfoy…I mean to say, do you like him?"

"No, not particularly." Ginny said sourly.

"Oh. Well it just seemed like you two…I don't know, maybe you were friends."

"Well we're not." Ginny insisted stiffly, but then her face furrowed.

"I don't know," She admitted. "Sometimes he's just _Malfoy_ and I could kill him. And then, he does something…and it's like he's two completely different people. Admittedly I'm terribly fond of either one of them right now."

"Be careful, Ginny. People like Malfoy…they don't just change overnight."

"I know that." Ginny snapped. "I'm sick of everyone telling me that. I _am_ careful. Poor Ginny, she's so fragile. Watch out for, Ginny she doesn't know what's good for her. Well I'm fine thank you, and I don't need you or Harry or even Malfoy for that matter telling me to be careful."

Hermione looked affronted. "Well, yes, I know. I just meant-"

"No, Hermione." Ginny said, running a hand through her hair tiredly. Her good mood from that morning had completely dissolved. "I'm sorry, that was out of line. I didn't sleep very well last night is all." Hermione still looked unsure. "Really. Everything's okay, and I'm sorry."

Hesitantly, the older girl smiled. "Okay, Gin. I'll see you later."

Hermione stood and started out, stopped at the door and turned as if she were going to say something, and then thought better of it. She opened the door only to find Malfoy was standing on the other side.

He looked around her to where Ginny was seated on the bed.

"Hey." He said casually.

Ginny silently glared.

"Bye, Ginny." Hermione said, and threw a threatening look in Draco's direction before brushing past him and into the hall.

The little Weasley looked up at him, wordlessly. She was so incredible readable. Her entire face revealed her internal struggle as she tried to decide how to respond.

Draco smirked. "I believe you owe me twenty questions."

* * *

Whoot...37 chapters down, 27 to go! (er...just kidding. Really. This story will end eventually. No, really it will. Stop looking at me like that. IT WILL). Anyway, you brave souls who've stuck with me this long, thanks for your dedication. It makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. And...guess what else makes me feel all warm and fuzzy? Reviews! (Bats eyelashes while shamelessly pandering for reviews). Besides, I write faster when people review...


	38. Chapter Thirty Eight

Kinda a short chapter but I felt bad for not updating in so long. Sorry. Anyway, my school is on a four by four schedule which means that I finish half my classes before Christmas break and finish the second half before summer break, so I've been working on projects/studying for finals the past few weeks. Luckily, that also means that the next few weeks will be really easy and I'll hopefully be able to write a lot more.

Disclaimer: Every charecter/setting/plot you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling and Warmer Bros. and not me.

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Ginny face was an almost comical mixture of surprise and relief as he entered, but she recovered quickly.

"I didn't expect to be seeing you." She said coolly.

"A Malfoy never breaks a promise, love." He said in a tone of mock offense.

She stared at him.

"Or, wait…" He amended, "maybe it's a Malfoy never breaks a nail."

"Yes," Ginny said, a bit distractedly. "That does sound a bit closer."

"I'm quite sure that's what it is. So what's it we say about promises, then?"

"Probably something along the lines of, 'A good way to get the Ministry in your pocket and girls in you pants'."

He opened his mouth to retort, and then shrugged. "No actually, that sounds about right."

He turned and closed the door, locking it behind him, and then pulled a chair up next to her bed so he could face her.

Ginny looked, horrified, at the door. "Unlock it."

"And have your brothers find me in here?" He asked, shaking his head.

"Right, and it will be so much better when they find you in here with the door locked." She muttered, but he heard her and grinned.

Ginny was suddenly feeling very anxious.

"You know, you really are quite good at being mad." Draco said, and he had not only managed to make it sound as though it were a compliment, but also to make her feel as though any response besides modesty would be rude.

"Well not really, you just make it very easy." She said very humbly, and cursed the words as she said them.

He grinned, and then, suddenly, the previous night's dream came rushing back to her.

"_Are you still mad?" He asked, grinning playfully at her._

_She didn't reply. It wasn't that she didn't have the words; it was that everything felt so very immaterial, so very unreal, that she wasn't quite sure she was even there. She tried to talk, but the words fell uselessly on her lips before they ever made a noise. She shook her head and was surprised that the gesture had even worked. She seemed to be floating aimlessly. Once or twice she moved to grab something and anchor herself, but it would slip through her fingers like smoke._

"As always, I'm just glad I could assist you." Draco said grinning.

Ginny made a noise. It wasn't quite a gurgle, and it was less articulate than a gasp. She wasn't entirely what the sound had set out to be but certainly it had lost its way somewhere in her throat.

"So," Draco said slowly, studying her. "Shall I start, or will you?"

Ginny made another noise, this one however, seemed a bit more certain of itself and came out as something rather resembling a noncommittal 'hmmm'.

_He touched her arm and for a moment, she couldn't do anything but stare at it, because it was so solid. He sat down, pulled her down with him. She landed awkwardly in his lap, and knew she was blushing, but he smiled at her inelegance. Very, very gently, as if her were afraid his lightest touch would break her, he turned, and let her fall against the ground and put one, thin arm around her so that he was cradling her against his chest. In the back of her mind, something was telling her this was not normal, but he was still so very real, and nothing else was. She couldn't leave his solidity; everything else was so confusing. _

"Are you okay?" Draco asked, leaning forward. He raised one eyebrow, and her heart raced.

Stop it right now, Ginny ordered herself. Her heart was fluttering wildly in her chest. She hadn't let herself get this worked up about a boy she liked since third year and she didn't even _like_ Draco Malfoy.

Very successfully, she felt, she managed a nod.

_He was looking down at her, and she let herself examine him carefully, unabashed. His chin was pointed, but that suited him. The long, thin planes of his checks were perfect- pale and smooth, and almost translucent. She wondered vaguely if he'd ever even needed to shave. And then, almost timidly, she met his eyes. Wonderful eyes! Slanted eyes, she realized, and not nearly so narrow as she had imaged. And they were gray, but the word gray alone could never give justice to the eyes in front of her. And he was looking at her. There was a beautiful, unnamable emotion churning in his eyes, and she knew that it was there solely and explicitly for her. _

"_Ginny." He said, and that same emotion enveloped every syllable. One slender hand brushed against her face, stroked her cheek, paused over her lips. He turned abruptly, and now instead of beside her, he was poised over her, and very slowly, never taking his eyes from hers, he leaned down and kissed her. Pleasant tingles ran down her spine; he was warm and solid, and smelled wonderful. When he pulled away, he was breathing heavily and still staring down at her. Before she had caught her breath his lips met hers again, and when he wasn't kissing her, he was saying her name. _

"_Ginny, Ginny, Ginny." Each time he said it, the word tumbled from his lips like music; he savored it, as if the very taste of it was sweet. She liked the sound of it._

_She made a happy little noise, which made him laugh, and she liked the sound of that too. Ginny turned slightly, so that her back was curled up flush against him._

"_Are you happy?" He asked, propped up on one elbow, running the other hand through her hair. She nodded, looking over her shoulder at him. _

"_Good." He said, and she could see her was very clearly smug. "I _knew_ you couldn't stay mad at me forever."_

_Very lightly, he kissed her shoulder, and then, a smirk playing on his lips_-

She woke up. That was all. A dream had her this worked up; it was ridiculous. She was just lucky she'd woken up when she had; if she was this absurd _now_, she couldn't imagine how she'd be reacting if they'd gone any farther than kissing. She'd kissed boys before and remained perfectly capable of forming whole sentences and here she hadn't even actually kissed him and she could barely form a single word (well she had, but once he had been drunk, and once he had been trying to bail himself out, so neither of those, she felt, really counted).

And now, he was still smirking at her. She was probably blushing, she realized, feeling incredibly foolish. And rightfully so, she reminded herself. There was absolutely no reason she should be this flustered.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She said, but realized afterwards she'd probably already exceeded the acceptable response time.

"Right. I'm getting that." He said, and she wanted to smack the grin off his face. "Should we maybe do this another time?"

"No!" She said forcefully. It was some strange fluke that he was there at all; if she delayed any longer the universe would rebalance itself. "No, you promised. You aren't ferreting you're way out of this."

"First of all, please choose a different verb. _Ferreting _is degrading…and I'm not even entirely sure you used it correctly. Secondly, if I were planning on _weaseling _out of it, I wouldn't have come looking for you, now would I?"

Ginny had to admit that was true, but still, it was entirely possible this was some sort of cunning plot. Plot to do what, she wasn't entirely sure, but this scenario made no sense unless he had something diabolical planned.

"I still don't trust you, Draco Malfoy." She informed him tartly.

He leaned forward conspiratorially. "Good, I'm not a very trustworthy bloke."

Ginny frowned at him. "You sound so proud."

"Well if there's one thing I pride myself on, it's my honesty."

She snorted. "One thing? You are the single most proud person I've ever met."

He laughed. "You're not exactly a doormat yourself, Weasley."

"Why do you still call me Weasley?" She asked, suddenly reddening. That accursed dream had resurfaced.

He raised an eyebrow and didn't respond.

"Oh come on. You can consider it my first question." She prompted.

"Why don't you call me Draco?" He fired back.

"Well I don't go about calling you by you're last name all the time." She retorted.

"No, you simply avoid calling me anything."

"What would you prefer I do?" She snapped, feeling foolish.

"I was perfectly happy with the previous arrangement."

"Well I wasn't." Ginny said stubbornly.

"Well I don't have any more of an answer for you. You don't use my first name, and I don't use yours."

"So if I started calling you Draco…?"

"You won't." He said confidently.

"I've called you Draco before." She protested.

"Only when you were feeling particularly guilty. Can we please move on?" He said dryly.

"What about-"

"Augh, augh, augh." He said, waggling a finger at her. "My turn."

"I didn't say I was through."

"You are incredibly stubborn."

"I am." Ginny agreed.

"Good thing I am too." Draco said, challenging her.

Ginny backed down. "Fine, then." She said, "You're turn."

"Why'd you ask about Sylvia last night?"

"What?"

"Last night, you asked if I'd dated her. Why?"

"Curiosity." She offered, shifting uncomfortably.

"Really." He said, smirking. "Anything else?"

"Yes actually." Ginny said. "I-there's something strange about her. I don't know her, do I?"

For a moment, his eyes darkened, and he looked vaguely disturbed, but then the look vanished and he haughtily replied, "I doubt it."

"What _exactly_ did you mean by that?" She demanded.

"You don't travel in the same circles." He said confidently, and then added, "She's not as nice as Blaise."

"I can believe that." She said thinking back to the girl at the restaurant.

There was a pause while she thought, but it was the kind of thinking that a moment later you couldn't remember. Draco cocked his head to the side and studied her while she thought. She didn't notice him for a moment, and then blushed when she did, remembering her dream again.

"What are you thinking about?" He asked.

"I thought it was my turn."

"I wasn't making an official inquiry. I was just curious."

"Why is Blaise so nice?"

"That's not about me." He said, miffed.

"Well, not everything is. I've tried telling you before. I'm just sorry you had to find out like this."

"You're tetchy today. Did I keep poor ickle Weasley out too late last night?"

"I didn't sleep very well." She said, mostly honestly.

He seemed strangely amused by that. "Oh, too bad." He said in mock pity.

"You didn't answer my question." She said, not to be distracted.

"Blaise's mum wasn't a Death Eater, I don't actually know if any of them were, but they certainly weren't against the Dark Lord. But she put up with all sorts of muggles and blood-traitors did. Found them fascinating, and her parents hated it. Blasted her off the family tree. Then, only a few years later she got bloody, filthy rich modeling and her parents quite suddenly forgave her."

"What a loving and dedicated family." She said sarcastically. "But still, that explains a lot."

"I didn't tell my father I was friends with him until the end of fourth year. If I had, I'm sure he'd have told me I couldn't be friends with blood-traitors."

"Why do you hate him?" Ginny asked, curiously.

Draco didn't say anything. If agreed, he'd be betraying his father, and if he didn't he'd be lying.

Ginny was looking hard at him. "For the first fifteen years of your life you worshipped the man and now you cringe every time you talk about him. What changed? And don't try to sell me any crap, this time."

"I just realized…he didn't know quite as much as I thought he did." Which was an understatement. Really, he longed to curse Lucius with every word he knew.

Ginny stared at him, demanding a better answer with her silence.

"I don't think I ever actually listened to what he said, I just trusted it because he was my father. And then, suddenly, I started paying attention, and I realized how mad it all was. The Dark Lord will fail, and when he does, he'll take all his followers down with him."

He'd never been more honest with her, and if it weren't for the fact that he'd been dying to say those very words out loud for the past year, he never would have said it. He was afraid she'd ruin it by saying something stupid, but she said nothing. She just sat, waiting, as if she knew there were more. And he told her, because now that he'd started he couldn't stop.

"All of them are blind for not seeing it. Fools. The Dark Lord isn't even a man anymore; he's an ancient, crumbling, mad fragment. It's the madness that's kept him alive all this time. But the old fool doesn't see it. Oh, he's slippery, old Lucius, but when the Dark Lord falls- really falls- there's no way he'll slither out of that. He'd have been in Azkaban ages ago if the ministry wasn't in his pocket."

"You shouldn't call him that." Ginny said.

"Lucius-"

"Not Lucius. You-know-who, you shouldn't call him the Dark Lord. Only Death Eaters do that. And you're not a Death Eater, are you?"

"No."

"And you don't want to be a Death Eater, so then don't call him that. Call him You-know-who, or He-who-must-not-be-named, or call him Voldemort. Just don't call him that." She ordered vehemently.

She was surprised be her own reaction, and it was obvious so was he. He was looking at her with an emotion she couldn't place, and she wanted to know what he was thinking.

"Ron, I don't think Ginny's in there. I swear I saw her go outside earlier." Hermione's voice carried loudly over the silence. Ginny motioned at Draco to be quiet, and turned, taking a step towards the door. Straining her ears, she heard one pair of heavy footsteps clomping up the stairs. Then, she heard what was probably was her brother's response, but it was too muffled to make out.

"Hide." She ordered Draco frantically, but he was already on the ground, pulling himself underneath her bed.

"I'm telling you, Ron, I don't think she's in there." Came Hermione's voice again, but now that they were closer Ginny could tell that the older girl must have been very nearly yelling. There were two other pairs of footsteps, almost drowned out by Hermione's stomping.

"I thought I heard her talking." Ron said, right outside her room now. He rapped loudly on the door. "Gin? Can I come in?"

"Hold on. I'm changing." Ginny called, watching as with one final squirm, Draco pulled his legs under the bed. She quickly checked to make sure he couldn't be seen. Satisfied, she quickly unlocked the door.

"Hey, Ron. You need something?" She asked pleasantly.

"We're going out for a bit, could you cover for us?" He asked.

"Where are you going?" Ginny asked. The three looked at each other, but no one answered. "Fine, fine. I don't care. Is anyone from the Order on guard?"

"Lupin and Sirius are both here, but neither one of them will miss us too much." Harry said.

"It's really Mum we're worried about." Ron said. "She's been absolutely barmy the past few days."

"Yeah, I'll take care of it." Ginny said, eager to get the three to leave. Any moment now she could just see Draco crawling out from under the bed, smirking, and making some sort of snarky comment.

"Thanks, Ginny." Ron said.

"Just be careful." Ginny warned. Whatever they were planning probably wasn't a good idea if it required her covering for them. But Hermione was going along, and didn't look too concerned, except for the fact that she kept looking over Ginny's shoulder (she was too, no doubt, expecting Malfoy to pop out any second), and as long as Hermione was okay with whatever was happening, Ginny was okay too.

"Yeah, yeah, we will." Ron called, already heading down the stairs.

"I'll be right down." Hermione called at the retreating figures of Harry and Ron. "Where is he?" Hermione whispered when they were gone.

"Under the bed." Ginny answered, turning her head to look. Draco stuck a hand out and waved. "Thanks for the warning."

Hermione nodded. "I talked to Ron. Everything's okay."

"That's great, Hermione. Tell me everything later, okay?"

Hermione shot one last concerned looked towards the bed, and then vanished down the stairs.

By the time she turned back to face him, Draco had already crawled out, and was brushing himself off.

"Looks as if someone's had a bit of practice at that." She commented, looking vaguely surprised. Draco grinned.

"So…I'd better be going. I've got to make sure Mum's keeping busy for a while." Ginny said, and he shrugged. "But hey, don't think we're through. We had a deal and I fully intend to enforce it as soon as I get back."

"Hmm…enforce it. I like the sound of that." He said, smirking. "And you should really clean under your bed. You've got, like, nine bras down there."

Ginny blushed. "Just get out."

Severus Snape sat, confused, which was not a usual state for him. He'd been pouring over the latest batch of letters, and was now both thoroughly bemused and slightly disgusted.

The little Weasley girl indeed seemed a bit less foolish than the rest of her brood, and certainly not so hotheaded as Potter's friend. Nor did she share the galling arrogance of the Boy Who Lived. She was competent, without being overbearing and officious like Granger, and even he would admit that she had a head for potions. And while he did have a grudging respect for her, she was not by any means likable, and, in fact, barely even tolerable.

Draco, however, seemed to be taking some sort of interest in her, which explained why Snape was sitting in his living room, yet again poring over the letters looking for something he was missing.

What he really wanted to know was _how _Draco had gotten the girl to agree to let him come to her house in the first place. That the Malfoys and the Weasleys hated each other was something Snape knew just as well as anyone, and though Draco had never seemed any more offensive to her than he'd been to all her brothers, the littlest Weasley had always seemed particularly impassioned in her animosity. Her dislike of the Malfoys was outweighed only by that of her idiotic brother's. But she had, for some reason, agreed. Snape was inclined to believe that reason wasn't entirely legal.

He'd found out a week or so after his meeting with Narcissa at Hogsmeade- well over a month ago- where Draco intended to stay, and when he'd first read the letter, he'd thought it was a joke. But the boy had sent at least two other owls to his mother, trying to come up with conceivable excuses they could give to Lucius as to why he wouldn't be coming home for Christmas. When he realized that the boy was serious, Severus had racked his brain trying to come up with another option, but slowly, the idea had warmed on him. After all, with the ridiculous scheme to have the Order stationed at the Weasley house for the holiday, Draco would be fuller protected. Besides, it meant that he himself would be able to keep a close watch on the boy. Really, it was almost ideal.

But still…Snape couldn't help but wonder what Draco had done to get the girl to agree. Sighing, because he was no closer now to an answer than he had been months ago when he'd first pondered the question, Snape took out his quill and parchment.

"_Imator_." He told the quill causally, and at his command the thing jumped to life, hovering patiently over the paper. As he began to dictate, the quill scrawled his words across the paper in Draco's elegant script. Within moments he had a short, entirely Weasley-free letter in Draco's hand addressed to Narcissa, assuring her he was safe and comfortable.

* * *

So, yeah, like I said, short chappie. 

Thank you guys so much for all of your wonderful reviews, especially your criticisms. I'm obsessive about checking my email. It's kinda sad actually.

P.S. (JK announce the new title of the new book. It's _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows_. I hugged the "Reserve your copy now!" sign in the middle of Books a Million. People stared.


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